The Burning Shade
by Fatality
Summary: (Champions of Thultanthar - Book IV) Having pledged his loyalty to High Prince Telamont, renown mindmaster Phendrana has much to adjust to - the looming threat of Lim Tal'eyve, the internal power struggles of the Princes of Shade, and most importantly his ever-growing attraction to Twelfth Prince Brennus, the youngest of the High Prince's sons.
1. One Step From a Breakdown

The four figures crouched beside the ruined fountain that had once served as the magnificent centerpiece of the Circle were still with shock and grief as the dark-haired female spellcaster in the violet robes collapsed to the ground, and for a horrible moment her fall was met only with silence. The tallest figure among them, a doppelganger with protuberant silver eyes, had seen enough of death in his lifetime to know that she was beyond aid. The macabre thought gave him chills, and he shook his head firmly as if to chase that train of thought away.

Another of their number seemed to come to his senses and stumbled forward a step, amber eyes burning within a face obscured mostly by shadow; his mouth fell open as if to scream, but in the end he fell to his knees over the woman with the ashen face and clung to her as her body grew cold in his arms. With a tenderness he himself hadn't known he possessed he brushed his fingertips over her eyelids to close her once-vivacious violet eyes, and bending low he pressed his lips to her brow, her cheeks, her lips, the tip of her nose, until he could bear his sadness no longer and bowed his head as he sobbed silently.

"I cannot bear to watch," said a third member of their group, another man enveloped in shadow whose eyes were pools of molten bronze and who wore charcoal gray robes emblazoned with odd runic symbols whose embroidery changed color in the light. "This is… There are no words for this."

The last of their group, a female with bold yellow eyes the color of radiant sunlight and a falchion belted upon her hip, lowered her gaze to the ground and spoke up in a regretful tone of voice. "As dreadful as this is, we cannot linger here. There is fighting still in many areas of the city, and many lives still at stake. We must decide upon a course of action, and decide now."

Twelfth Prince Brennus Tanthul, the shade with the bronze eyes, nodded once solemnly as he gazed upon the kneeling shade prostrating himself over the corpse of Aveil Arthien, the Archmistress of the Citadel of Assassins and something of an ally to the City of Shade. She was correct, of course, but where to begin? So much had happened, and in such a short period of time, that Brennus's head was still spinning as he struggled to wrap his mind around it all.

In only a few short days the grand city of Thultanthar, the last of the floating enclaves of the Netherese Imperium, had undergone radical changes – the effects of which would surely resound throughout the annals of its history. The doppelganger standing on Brennus's right, the enigmatic mindmaster called Phendrana, had at last chosen to sever his ties to the World Below and pledge his allegiance to the sole monarch of the City of Shade, High Prince Telamont Tanthul. Almost simultaneously the City of Shade had forged alliances with both Waterdeep and Silverymoon, though these peace treaties had been bound under less-than-desirable terms: all but the leader of the ruling body of Waterdeep had been slaughtered by a handful of the Most High's own sons, and the Lady of Silverymoon had only agreed to join forces with Thultanthar in a desperate attempt to keep her subjects safe. Just yesterday the High Prince's eldest son had requested the hand of Soleil Chemaut, the woman standing on Brennus's left, in marriage, and controversy was sure to follow – Soleil was neither of Netherese descent or Shadovar birth, and had only just learned that ancient dragon blood flowed through her veins. To cap it all the lichdrow Lim Tal'eyve had opened a portal in the heart of Thultanthar and admitted a host of phaerimm into the city, and even as they stood there considering their next move the aberrations continued to wreck havoc on several sections of the city. Not long ago Lim Tal'eyve had attempted to claim the life of Hadrhune, the chosen emissary of the High Prince who now wept over Aveil Arthien's lifeless body, and though that attempt had been unsuccessful and the drow lay dead in the pavilion he had managed to drag Aveil into the World Beyond with him.

Brennus knew that the last place for Hadrhune to be was on the battlefield, for in his state of overwhelming grief he could never hope to be of any use to anyone. "Soleil, can you escort Hadrhune back to the Palace Most High?"

These words served to spark the first emotional reaction in Hadrhune that was not sorrow – it was sudden, inconsolable rage. The seneschal whipped his head in the Twelfth Prince's direction, baring his ceremonial fangs in ferocity as he growled, "No! I will not leave her!"

"Neither will you remain here, completely unprotected with your judgment so clouded!" Brennus bellowed, his tone of voice leaving no room for leniency. "You will return to the Palace Most High at once, and Soleil will take you there. The Archmistress was a friend to Thultanthar – you should take her body with you, and deliver her to the High Prince. To do otherwise would bring dishonor upon her sacrifice, and that I will not allow."

Soleil was nodding along, albeit a little jerkily; it seemed she had yet to master her own shock at the way events had unfolded. She approached Hadrhune tentatively, as though afraid he would attack her if she moved too suddenly, and dropping to his side she laid one hesitant hand upon his shoulder. The seneschal started at the contact, but did not pull away. "It will be quicker if we shadow walk to the palace. Do you think you can manage that?"

Hadrhune was on his feet suddenly with Aveil's body cradled in his arms, but his eyes were lifeless and he did not meet any of their gazes. Soleil took his sudden movement as an acquiescence of her request and rose, clutching his shoulder with one hand, and Brennus was grimly pleased when they dissolved into thousands of shadow particles and began the journey to the Palace Most High through the vast, complex void that was the Realm of Shadow.

"If we have regained access to the Shadow Realm, then the lichdrow has undoubtedly passed," Brennus observed, relief coloring his tone. "Aveil Arthien has indeed made a great sacrifice – she may have saved us all with her bravery. It is a shame that we have lost her… Perhaps the Most High will take it upon himself to restore her to life somehow."

"Such things are within his power to grant?" Phendrana asked, clearly surprised, and the loremaster snickered beneath his breath.

"To an extent – though now is neither the time nor place for us to discuss such matters." Brennus glanced over his shoulder toward the northeast, where smoke was curling toward the sky and intertwining with the encroaching shadows that protected Thultanthar from the harsh glare of the sun. "I must admit, I am rather at a loss as to what to do next. We have been cut off from the rest of the Shadow Council for much of this ordeal, and I have no way of knowing how the others are faring. At this point we can only speculate…"

If Brennus said more Phendrana did not hear the words, for at that precise moment a mildly familiar voice washed through his mind. _Your efforts are commendable, Phendrana, and you have my continued gratitude. Know that it is not necessary for you to fight any longer – the phaerimm have begun to remove themselves from the enclave, and at present we are no longer in further danger. Return with my son to the palace at once, for we have much to discuss._

By the time Phendrana became aware of his current surroundings again it was to find that Brennus had seized him by the forearm; the loremaster's curious bronze eyes all but filled the doppelganger's field of vision. He opened his mouth to voice his concerns, but Phendrana cut him off with a quick shake of his head. "I heard the High Prince's voice just now… the phaerimm are retreating. He wants us to return to the palace."

"Then we would do well not to keep him waiting," Brennus observed, and tightening his grip on the mindmaster's forearm he whisked them both into the Realm of Shadow.

* * *

The journey through the Shadow Realm was short, and far less disorienting than Phendrana recalled; briefly he wondered if he was actually getting used to such unsettling happenstances, and he even allowed himself a fleeting moment of panic to follow that train of thought before the youngest shade prince dragged him back into the plane of existence he was most accustomed to living in, thus interrupting his reverie. They had arrived in the High Prince's audience chamber, with its thick veils of shadow clinging to the walls and standing candelabras lit with deep violet flames rimming the deep basin in the floor that housed the world window, an enchanted viewing pool that had the power to show one anything they asked to see. The audience hall was crowded when they appeared, and glancing around Phendrana noted that only Hadrhune, Soleil, Second Prince Rivalen, and the High Prince himself were missing from their midst.

_Something has happened_, whispered Vadania, the orphaned snow elf druid who was one of six deceased heroes who took up residence within Phendrana's brilliant but heavily fractured mind, and silently the doppelganger agreed. From what Phendrana had witnessed in his short time spent among the Twelve Princes of Shade the Most High was seldom missing from the affairs of the Shadow Court – surely if he was absent now, some ill had befallen them.

_Doubtless it has something to do with the Archmistress_, Alax hypothesized, and Phendrana agreed with the half drow almost at once. Alax was a cerebrex, a rare breed of wizard who specialized in manipulating the many facets of the brain to perform magic, and logic was one of the greatest weapons Alax had at his disposal. _Perhaps he believes that she can be saved… his second eldest son is missing also, and his absence is most likely not coincidental. Does he not serve the role of cleric among the princes?_

_You are right, _agreed Ristel, the water genasi who served as an elemental savant and often the voice of cynicism as well. _Though I confess… I have little confidence in his ability to solve this._

Phendrana felt Brennus release his arm and jerked his head to the side – several of the loremaster's brothers were approaching at length, talking quietly but rapidly as they made their way. _Now is not the time for these assumptions,_ Phendrana told the residents of his mind, pleased when their voices died away almost immediately. _Something very serious is happening, and I suspect it has little to do with the trials we just faced_.

He and the Twelfth Prince were joined then by First Prince Escanor – the Most High's eldest son, and one of Thultanthar's mightiest warriors – Fifth Prince Clariburnus – the captain of Thultanthar's military – as well as Eighth Prince Mattick and Ninth Prince Vattick, twin illusionists and senior arcanists at The College. Phendrana was shocked but privately pleased to find his hand immediately claimed by First Prince Escanor, who proceeded to shake the aforementioned hand with gratitude and gusto. "Words cannot express the heartfelt nature of my thanks," said Telamont's eldest son humbly. "When I think of what horrors may have befallen Brennus at the hands of the phaerimm that laid waste to The Circle… Had you not been at his side, I fear he may have been lost. Know that this day we are all in your debt, Phendrana."

Phendrana cracked a smile that was half pride and half embarrassment, for he was not used to accepting praise for his actions; he was momentarily spared from stumbling through a few awkward words of thanks when Clariburnus embraced Brennus tightly, his normally composed face taut with lingering tension. "We all feared the worst. This day has been taxing on us all."

Brennus returned his brother's embrace for a moment but was quick to push him back to arm's length, dozens of questions burning in his bronze eyes. "We were in The Circle with Hadrhune and Aveil – "

"I know," Clariburnus interrupted, "and if it was within my power to answer your inquiries concerning the situation, rest assured that I would do so. However, none of us are privy to this information. The High Prince was on the verge of addressing us when Soleil and Hadrhune returned with Aveil… We saw only that he bore the Archmistress's body, and then the Most High summoned Rivalen and they all departed together."

Brennus was at a complete loss. "And that is all?"

"Unfortunately," Mattick broke in, and he spread his hands helplessly. "He commanded us to wait here for him, but… I am not certain what they hope to accomplish."

The loremaster hung his head, looking so deplorable that Phendrana was compelled to drop Escanor's hand so that he could move to stand behind him and clap him bracingly upon the shoulder. When next Brennus glanced up to regard them, his eyes were shining. "We are both witness to the Archmistress's deeds – she made killing Lim Tal'eyve her final act, and I am certain now that it was the deathblow she dealt that forced the phaerimm to retreat from the enclave. She is nothing less than a hero to Thultanthar. Soleil and Hadrhune will say the same."

"Doubtless the Most High aims to reward her for her sacrifices," Escanor finished, "and restore her to life if such a thing is within his power."

They stood together for a long while, brooding, and it wasn't until many minutes later that Phendrana realized he was still clinging to Brennus's shoulder; hastily he dropped his hand uselessly to his side, feeling mortally embarrassed by his actions, though fortunately he was spared his discomfort a second time when the doors to the audience hall eased open and Soleil admitted herself. A wash of sympathy crashed over Phendrana at the sight of her, for she truly was in a piteous state: her hair and battle raiment were both disheveled and streaked with the blood of countless phaerimm, her eyes reflected her obvious exhaustion, and her numerous wounds had yet to be treated. Escanor moved to her side at once, followed closely by Vattick, who instantly set to work healing the injuries that most needed medical attention. She looked up to regard them all, and her words nearly floored them.

"Aveil Arthien lives," Soleil confessed, dumbfounded by her own statement, "though I know not how."

* * *

Little was resolved or explained that night; in the end Second Prince Rivalen made a brief appearance in the audience chamber that was just long enough to pass along the message that the Most High wished to dismiss them for the evening. As security was still a high priority for The Circle and all of Shade Enclave was currently in a state of destruction, Escanor issued a citywide curfew to the Shadovar residing in all districts, and also commanded that the Army of Shade patrol the streets to ensure the protection of all citizens until the curfew was lifted. Since The Circle had been utterly demolished and that effectively rendered the Princes of Shade homeless, they were all offered temporary quarters within the Palace Most High for the time being; most of them were all too grateful to accept, if only to dress their battle wounds and utilize the last few hours before dawn to find a moment's rest, but not all.

"I haven't time to rest," Fourth Prince Aglarel had snapped, pausing with one foot out the door and his assassin's cloak hanging in useless shreds of fabric about his compact killer's frame. "The admission of the phaerimm into the City of Shade is a gross violation of the security statutes that I myself am charged with upholding. Until such time as I can be assured that another breach is next to impossible, I will be strengthening the enclave's protective enchantments."

Escanor and Clariburnus entertained similar views.

"It would be unjust of me not to participate in the patrols," Clariburnus had told them solemnly, shouldering his glaive even as Escanor beckoned to him from the doors leading out of the audience hall. "The Army of Shade has long looked to me for guidance, and I will continue to honor their pleas for leadership."

Phendrana had lingered uncertainly near the doors, feeling that he should find a place where he might offer his services to them, but Brennus had been quick to assuage him. "There is little we can do for now… It would be wise for us to take some rest while we can, for tomorrow we will undoubtedly be busy attending to the reconstruction of The Circle."

He had then summoned one of the palace servants and left instructions for Phendrana to be taken to his private quarters, expressing his desire to return the books they had borrowed regarding the Dracon to the Grand Library before retiring for the evening. Phendrana had taken a light meal before bathing himself and dressing in simple clothes that had been left for his use, and though Brennus had yet to return by the time the doppelganger had made himself comfortable he was too weary to wait up. The room provided to him was sparsely furnished with two queen-sized four-posters as well as a few other essential pieces of furniture but was otherwise quiet and spacious; Phendrana chose the bed furthest from the door, suspecting that Brennus would want little more than to collapse the moment his errands were finished, and was fast asleep just minutes later.

The sound of the door opening and closing with exaggerated care was still enough to wake him; Phendrana knew it was Brennus because the prince's bronze eyes were still clearly visible in the near-complete darkness. The doppelganger managed to lift himself up groggily onto one elbow, albeit slowly; fatigue from the day's exertions was already settling into his muscles, and the soreness from his injuries was noticeable. "Is everything alright, Prince?"

There came the gentle sound of clothes rustling, presumably as Brennus slipped out of his loremaster's robes, followed by the soft but weary sound of his voice. "Everything is as well as it can be at this point. It wasn't my intention to wake you, Phendrana. Please rest. I will tell you all that I have learned in the morning."

Phendrana lay back down but didn't close his eyes, instead following Brennus's dark silhouette as it padded across the room and disappeared into the attached restroom. The door closed behind him soundlessly, and moments later a thin shaft of violet light shone from the crack between the door and the floor as the Twelfth Prince lit a candle. All was silent for a few heartbeats more, and then there issued the sound of running water; Phendrana lay perfectly still, scarcely daring to breathe, listening as Brennus washed himself and allowing his thoughts to alight briefly on the way that the prince's black silk button down had drifted carelessly open over his smooth torso and the way his roomy trousers rode low on his narrow hips.

Predictably his impure musings were interrupted by Ristel, who was easily the most prone to remaining active in Phendrana's mind at all hours of the night. _You entertain dangerous fantasies, Phendrana. To pursue Rosalles knowing full well that his well being depended upon your anonymity was one thing, but this?_

For the third time that day the mindmaster was spared from stammering through a self conscious reply by the sound of the water faucet being turned off. It was quiet for a minute or two, just long enough for Phendrana to begin to drift off again, when the door opened a second time and Brennus exited just after extinguishing the single candle he had lit. The faint scent of night-blooming jasmine roused Phendrana this time, borne upon the air as Brennus crept past, and the pleasant aroma of the prince's clean skin clung to the inside of the doppelganger's nostrils like a kind of sweet torture. He heard keenly the moment when the vacant bed across the room took on Brennus's weight and the prince uttered a sigh of barely-audible exhaustion, and didn't dare to move for fear that he would alert Brennus to the fact that he had been lying awake and listening to his every move since the moment he had walked through the door.

The sound of the prince's even, content breathing wafted up to meet Phendrana's ears not long afterward, and though Phendrana was unbelievably tired now sleep didn't find him again for quite some time.


	2. Two Steps From Being Safe

Sleep was elusive; Phendrana never entered a state of complete rest despite his exhaustion, and woke the next morning feeling perhaps more tired than he had the night before. It was well past dawn when he finally awoke, and the first thing he did was glance over at the bed nearest the door – only to find that Twelfth Prince Brennus was gone, the bed neatly made and his loremaster's robes nowhere to be found.

Phendrana rose, berating himself. The City of Shade was in a state of complete disarray, with many of its most important landmarks either sustaining heavy damage or otherwise reduced to rubble and the death toll as yet undetermined, and here he was snoozing the day away in the High Prince's palace? Fear nibbled away at the corners of his mind as he imagined just how Brennus – and the rest of the Princes of Shade, for that matter – would respond to his laziness. Would they cast him out? Would they deem him unfit to reside among them, and rescind their offer to assimilate him into their society?

_I hadn't realized you were so deeply concerned about the prospect of being sent away from this place,_ Zerena observed, not condescending but sympathetic, and though her words were normally more than enough to calm Phendrana this time he found that he was simply irritated by her intrusion. The gloaming seemed to sense his ire and chose not to offer any further comment, but his unintentional hostility was enough to set the others to buzzing and he had to concentrate just to tune out their voices.

He padded across the floor, his feet and his chest bare, to the small table to the left of the door; it was laden with a modest breakfast spread, mostly fruits and cheeses and a warm loaf of the bread that the Shadovar seemed so fond of. Propped against a half-filled carafe of fresh orange juice was a small sheaf of parchment that had been folded over once; Phendrana plucked this from the table first, turning it over in his hands to find two words penned upon the underside in a small but elegant hand:

_Wait here_.

Phendrana stared down at the note for rather longer than was necessary, his eyes unblinking and his heart rate accelerating as he considered the implications of the message. He was familiar enough with Brennus's handwriting to feel certain that the loremaster had left him the note prior to departing the room, but it appeared the words had been written in a great hurry. That, coupled with the lack of conclusive details, made the message somehow ominous; Phendrana sat heavily at the breakfast table, too anxious to eat anything, wondering what had caused the prince to leave with such haste and whether or not he was alright.

Fortunately, he wasn't made to wait long; a quarter of an hour passed, just long enough for Phendrana to begin picking at the loaf of bread with half a mind to eat a bit of it, and the door opened to admit Brennus. The doppelganger was afforded a brief glimpse of the prince's face before he had time to compose his expression, and he looked weary and harassed – then his eyes fell upon Phendrana and he rearranged his face into a kind of strained smile. "Oh, Phendrana! It is good to see that you are well. I hope you are feeling rested."

"Rested enough." Phendrana tried to sound reassuring, but his concern seeped into his tone of voice and a crease formed in his brow; he held the note aloft, his eyes probing Brennus's for clues. "Has something happened?"

Brennus pulled up a seat on Phendrana's right, and though he had already eaten he helped himself to a half glass of orange juice. He surveyed the doppelganger seriously over the rim of the glass, as though considering how best to respond. Was he deciding on just how much of the truth to share? Abruptly Phendrana felt incensed, betrayed by this possibility, but he sulkily reminded himself that the Princes of Shade owed him nothing and that if he had been foolish enough to invite Brennus in and decide to trust him wholeheartedly he had done so at his own peril. It was very fortunate that the Twelfth Prince was so tolerant of him, for in the next instant Phendrana said something rather ill advised. "If I have overstepped my bounds, feel free to withhold whatever information you have from me."

His voice was stiff with over-exaggerated formality and a touch of the anger he tried and failed to hide; it brought a faint smile to Brennus's lips, and that simple gesture was more disarming than anything he might have said. "I have just come from the High Prince's audience chamber, where he was gracious enough to meet with us this morning and answer a great many of our questions. I have yet to see her with my own eyes, but the Most High has confirmed all that Soleil said – Aveil lives."

Phendrana's mind reeled at the implications, and he leaned forward over the small plate of breakfast food he had barely touched. "But _how_? Is this the High Prince's doing?"

Brennus shook his head once, and quickly; it was as though he found Phendrana's suggestion somehow ridiculous, though to Phendrana this was the only logical explanation. "By his own word, he did nothing to change her fate. My brother Rivalen has said the same – he was assessing her condition and had pronounced her dead when somehow, miraculously, she awoke."

"Impossible," Phendrana spat, and the ire had returned to his voice; Brennus ascertained without asking that the doppelganger felt he was purposely being told only half-truths. "I was there! I saw for myself the blow that ended her life. I felt the moment her soul departed her body and spirited away in search of the Veil, as keenly as I feel the ground beneath my own feet!"

Silence was all that followed Phendrana's proclamation; Brennus surveyed him with a calculating, almost cold diligence as he mulled over the meaning behind the doppelganger's words, his eyes of molten bronze making Phendrana feel as though he were being x-rayed, and it didn't occur to Phendrana just what he had admitted until Ristel was kind enough to explain it to him with his characteristic bluntness. _Well, if he wasn't suspicious of your eclectic abilities before, he certainly is now._

Immediately, Phendrana attempted to backpedal. "What I mean is – "

His halfhearted protests were derailed when Brennus raised one hand, and Phendrana lapsed into an uneasy silence. The Twelfth Prince didn't appear altogether angry, however; rather, he regarded the doppelganger with his usual curiosity. "And what can you possibly mean by that? I will grant you that I have been without my soul for many decades, and that I may not be as attuned to such spiritual wanderings as I was in the days before I became a shade, but I confess… In all my years of witnessing the death that is a necessary by-product of war, I have never once felt one's soul departing one's body."

Phendrana uttered a little sigh of irritation, clearly distressed by his inadvertent slip of the tongue, and ran a hand down his face. "You know that I am a mindmaster – that in my travels I have learned to utilize my mind as perhaps my single deadliest weapon."

Brennus nodded. "Your studies have served you well."

"What I neglected to tell you is that I am also a ghostwalker."

If the loremaster felt anything other than a supreme sense of interest in Phendrana's words, he did well not to show it; he gazed deeply into the doppelganger's protuberant silver eyes for a long moment, considering, before allowing a broad smile of something like admiration to spread across his face.

"In my initial assessment of you I told the High Prince that you were unlike anyone I had ever known," Brennus admitted with a chuckle. "With every word you confirm all that I have said. Your talents are rather… diverse. How did you come to travel such a road? In my limited understanding of the ghostwalkers I was led to believe that their kind is as rare as their purpose is undesirable."

"More often than not their role is a lonely one," Phendrana agreed, "but my place in that role is far more different than perhaps any other's... I was introduced to the possibility of further mastering death through unconventional methods, and originally I entered into such an arrangement purely on account of my desperation to remain connected to the lost ones in whatever way I could manage. I still know little of the man who taught me, or how he came to find me, or how he knew of me at all."

A crease of mild concern formed between Brennus's eyes, barely visible beneath the wisps of shadow that perpetually enveloped his body. "How curious… did he tell you anything about himself?"

"Only that his name was Specter," Phendrana confessed, though he seemed at a loss. "Though that means little, for he admitted that the name was only an alias. The only other things I learned are that he is a drow, and that in feigning his own death he lost the function of his vocal cords."

Brennus uttered a contemplative sound in the back of his throat and held out a spreading knife handle-first in Phendrana's direction; the doppelganger accepted it with a nod and began spreading honey over his slice of bread, which by now was barely warm. "Then perhaps it is better that you never had the opportunity to become better acquainted with this Specter. If he is anything at all like Lim Tal'eyve, he is not the sort of company you wish to keep. So it is simply one of your perks of being a ghostwalker that affords you such a heightened sensitivity to the souls of the departed?"

Phendrana opened his mouth to respond but closed it just as quickly, for when he considered a little more closely he came to realize that he didn't really have the answer. Brennus lifted a knowing eyebrow.

"It could be that you are possessed of a great many latent gifts of your own, Phendrana," explained the loremaster quietly. "Or it could simply be that your desire to remain connected to the lost ones is so great that you manifested this unusual talent all on your own. Regardless, allow me to offer you a piece of advice: it is all well and good for you to commune with your deceased friends as often as you wish, but do try to keep this in mind – it does not do to dwell on the past, and forget how to live. The prospect of so much of your life changing so rapidly, all beyond the realm of your control, may seem at times overwhelming… but try to keep in mind that you are not without physical beings who are willing to lend you an ear as often as you may need. Soleil is particularly sympathetic when it comes to your cause, and I…" Brennus broke off with a smile that was somehow embarrassed before adding, "Well, I am prepared to help you however I may."

Phendrana slowly and thoughtfully chewed a bite of bread and honey, studying the loremaster's curious bronze eyes with great personal interest, and at length he said, "I fear you are far kinder to me than I could ever deserve, Prince."

"And in my opinion I feel that you are more than deserving of such treatment," Brennus argued genially, causing Phendrana's cheeks to darken as he blushed, and then he leaned nearer still; with the Twelfth Prince at such close proximity it was easy for Phendrana to see the tiredness that lingered near his eyes, a sure sign that perhaps he had found little rest the night before. "I almost forgot – this morning I was wakeful, and before I met with the Shadow Council for the dawn gathering I completed my translation of the Nether Scroll that you recovered from Manifest."

Phendrana leaned forward at this, pleasantly surprised and more than a little intrigued. His recovery of the Nether Scroll from Manifest, the city that served as the gate between the Material Plane and the Land Beyond the Veil, had been the first of his dealings with the Twelve Princes of Shade; High Prince Telamont had been busily preparing for negotiations with both Silverymoon and Waterdeep with a mind to form peaceable alliances with both nations when Brennus had unearthed the location of the artifact. Unable to spare any of his court members for such a task the High Prince had sent Brennus to enlist Phendrana's help with the matter, and the doppelganger had been only too happy to oblige; after all, it was in Manifest that the lost ones dwelled, patiently awaiting the end of Phendrana's life so that they could all journey beyond the Veil together. Knowing well the High Prince's deep-seated fascination with Phendrana and his peerless mastery over the mind the lost ones had allowed him to take full credit for the find, thus elevating the doppelganger to the High Prince's highest favor, and it was perhaps his efforts to secure the Nether Scroll that had ultimately delivered Phendrana to Thultanthar. Phendrana had harbored a keen interest in the Nether Scrolls since the first time Brennus had shared some of their lore with him, for they were ancient texts penned in the fabled language of the Netherese detailing anything from powerful arcane secrets to the whereabouts of treasures unimaginable. "What did it say? What did you find?"

Brennus chuckled into the back of his hand, amused by Phendrana's enthusiasm. "This scroll of yours was quite a find… It describes in great detail the location of an abandoned Netherese armory. The text hints at the existence of several enchanted relics so mighty that they may even be Tanthul family heirlooms. I have shared these findings with the High Prince and he wishes to make the recovery of these artifacts a priority… as soon as the enclave has been reconstructed and we have settled into our new homes, that is."

A pang of disappointment pained Phendrana at this news, compelling him to ask, "Am I to have my own private villa in the days to come, as well?"

Brennus spread his hands beseechingly, though he did not appear particularly remorseful when he said, "Unfortunately no – you will continue to inhabit Villa Tareia with me, until such time as the Most High sees fit to make you a shade. I hope you will not mind… I did draw up a blueprint calling for an expansion of my private residence to best accommodate your needs, and I ensured that it was delivered to the contractors who even now are toiling away in The Circle."

"An expansion?" Though Phendrana had never considered himself a materialist, he couldn't deny that he was flattered by all that Brennus had offered.

"Yes – more spacious living quarters for you, as well as a private library that you and I might use in our studies. The Most High has expressed his desire that I teach you the language of the ancient Netherese, and he would also like for us to continue gathering information regarding the Dracon. The villa should be ready tomorrow – until then, the High Prince has graciously offered to prolong our stay in these lodgings, provided you are not opposed to sharing the room with me for another night."

Every seemingly insignificant detail from the night before flooded Phendrana's memory at that moment – the almost-inaudible shifting of clothing as Brennus had undressed himself in the dark, the sound of the water cascading over Brennus's body as he bathed, the light protest of the bedsprings as Brennus had lay down in bed not fifteen feet away from where he himself lay, tensely listening, every nerve in his body on fire –

_Focus_, Alax broke in dryly, effectively derailing Phendrana's train of thought, and the doppelganger forced a placid smile onto his face and nodded vigorously.

"I do not mind."

Brennus looked pleased, and showed no indication that he had taken notice of Phendrana's lengthy hesitation. "Wonderful! Then when you have taken your breakfast, we should be on our way. The High Prince would like to have a private word with you, and he has expressed his desire that you attend the afternoon council session with us."

Phendrana hastened to finish his meal, eager not to keep Brennus waiting and wondering what the High Prince had in store for him, and when he felt refreshed stood up and indicated that he was prepared to leave. One corner of Brennus's mouth twitched upward into a brief smile, and it was only then that Phendrana remembered his rather undignified state of undress – he wore only a pair of roomy dark gray trousers not dissimilar to the ones Brennus often wore in the evening, and nothing else.

In that moment, Phendrana would have given anything to make himself invisible.

"Oh!" he exclaimed as he leapt back a step, much to the Twelfth Prince's amusement; he cast his eyes all about the room, feeling self-conscious as he desperately looked for his clothing, but his enchanted jade green vestments hung in tatters on the back of one of the chairs and he thought it best not to wear them in the company of the Most High.

Brennus was having difficulty containing his mirth. "Your clothes are in shambles. What do you think you will wear?"

Phendrana stood before him at a complete loss, still wishing with all his might that he would disappear into thin air, until Brennus took a measured step forward; the doppelganger watched him with the wild expression a deer on the verge of flight might wear, marking his every move, but could not bring himself to pull away as the loremaster circled to his back without a sound. His hearing sharpened as the Twelfth Prince passed out of his sight, picking up the sound of Brennus's robes shifting gently with every miniscule movement he made, and he started when he felt Brennus's hands encircling his wrists and pulling his arms out away from his body. For a moment they stood frozen this way, Brennus's grip on Phendrana's wrists firm but full of care, and for Phendrana the gesture was both thrilling and terrifying.

"Be still," Brennus murmured, his voice very near to Phendrana's ear quite husky and pitched very low.

Phendrana was compliant enough as the loremaster released him, keeping his arms away from his sides twelve inches or so, and then he felt the sleeves of some silky fabric brush against his fingertips; Brennus slid the material slowly up Phendrana's arms, his fingers lingering as they traced the inside of the doppelganger's wrists all the way up to his shoulders, and when the garment was in place he circled back to Phendrana's front and tugged the robes closed before cinching them at the waist with a silvery sash that he tied into a bow against Phendrana's narrow abdomen. The mindmaster studied his new clothes in the floor length mirror fixed to the back of the door with interest, flowing robes of a jade green emblazoned with silver filigree at the collar, wrists and hem that shimmered in the light; the sleeves were voluminous but did not drape over his hands and the hem fell to mid-calf length, while the neckline plunged into a sharp V shape down his sternum but not quite revealing his chest. Phendrana guessed that the robes were stitched with genuine silver, and that his new clothes were quite valuable indeed.

"A gift," Brennus explained quietly, his bronze eyes slightly dilated and veritably burning in his shadow-swathed face as he looked Phendrana up and down. "A small token of my appreciation for all of your hard work, and your continued loyalty to the Tanthul family. We always reward those faithful to us, Phendrana, and I will see to it that you are no exception."

Phendrana's throat had contracted almost painfully, to the point where all he could do was nod his appreciation. Brennus waited patiently while the doppelganger slipped into his boots and donned his various enchanted trinkets, and then they departed their shared quarters without another word shared between them.

* * *

The High Prince, it seemed, was waiting for them when they admitted themselves into his audience chamber; they were afforded a brief glimpse of the seneschal Hadrhune, who appeared quite haggard indeed, before the Most High dismissed him with a few softly spoken words and a wave of his hand. The seneschal vanished in a wisp of shadow, borne for a destination they could only guess, and by the time they had completed their approach Most High Telamont had descended the stairs leading down from his ornate onyx throne and stood waiting for them with open arms. He embraced them both simultaneously; pressed closer to Brennus than perhaps he had ever been, Phendrana was able to take note of the Twelfth Prince's unusual but pleasant scent - a combination of the delicate night-blooming jasmine soap he had bathed with the night previous, sage and mint that perhaps he had been using for alchemical purposes, and curiously enough, cinnamon.

"Life is so very fragile," Telamont greeted them morosely, drifting back and surveying them both with melancholy in his eyes. "Know that seeing you both standing here before me and well on the road to recovering from your injuries gives me great comfort." The great sovereign of Thultanthar shifted his body slightly so that he was angled toward Phendrana, and he dropped one hand companionably down upon the doppelganger's shoulder. "It is my pleasure to announce that your induction ceremony will be a grand event indeed – when you have surrendered your soul and accepted the pure essence of shadow in its place, and the Tanthul family introduces you to the populace as the Mind of the Most High, you will also be formally named a hero to Thultanthar."

Phendrana's eyes grew wider with every word, so much so that by the time Telamont had finished he was certain they would simply roll out of their sockets. He glanced to his side, where Brennus stood smiling conspiratorially back at him. "What could I have possibly done to earn such an accolade?!"

"Need I remind you yet again that you saved my life back in Villa Tareia?" Brennus chided good-naturedly. "The phaerimm were swarming all over the Circle, and my private residence was certainly no exception… With the ability to shadow-walk denied to me, I had no other means of escape. Had you not been present, I would have been lost. I owe you my life, Phendrana. The least I could do was present the Shadow Council with the motion for you to be named a hero to our city!"

"The vote was, of course, unanimous in favor of the motion," Telamont explained, smiling proudly at his youngest son. "After the other council members had listened to Brennus's testimony of events, they were all very insistent that you be rewarded for your selfless act of valor. The rescue of a Prince of Shade is no small service to us."

"The title grants you a number of great honors," Brennus continued excitedly, and Phendrana couldn't help but to admire his obvious enthusiasm. "A statue will be erected in your likeness with the rest of ours in the fountain in the Circle, and the Most High will present you with the weapon of your choice from his own armory, to serve as your badge of office."

Phendrana was speechless, whipping his head back and forth as he fixed each of them alternately with incredulous glances, until Brennus doubled over with laughter and the Most High's face split into a grin. When at last he had recovered himself the doppelganger dipped a hasty bow, hoping that this gesture would serve well enough as the thanks he could never articulate eloquently enough.

"Now," said Telamont, and clapping his hands together he turned his back on them and moved toward the world window, an enchanted one-way scrying device that allowed the High Prince to glimpse any individual or location with but a simple command. "To business. It is good that you have mentioned my armory, Brennus, for thanks to your translation of our most recent Nether Scroll I am hoping to add to it in the next tenday or so. You are dismissed from the afternoon council session, and I do not expect to see you among us unless some dire situation begs your presence – I would prefer that you devote your efforts to finding this Netherese armory. Have you the location?"

They were all three of them standing at the precipice of the world window; its glassy surface was blank and still with a thin film of silvery smoke wafting over its nondescript face as it awaited their orders. Brennus nodded once and glanced down into the center of the world window, murmuring almost reverently, "Castle Tethyr."

The surface of the world window rippled, the way a pond might when a stone is dropped deliberately into its center; the glassy face warped before bursting into the image of a crumbling stone keep that was derelict and obviously long since abandoned. Great slabs of once tall turrets had broken off of the main structure and lay all around the foundation, covered with moss in some places and sprouting weeds and wildflowers in others; the entire eastern facing wall had caved in, revealing a spiral staircase that led from the ground level all the way up to the castle's spherical-shaped observatory. They studied the relic in silence for a minute or two, and gradually Phendrana came to understand why the castle was in such a state of disrepair: not only had it been abandoned for decades, perhaps even centuries, but there was hardly an inch of the once-magnificent structure that was not heavily scarred black from burns.

"I have consulted the history books in the Grand Library," Brennus began diplomatically, and Phendrana felt the barest pang of guilt at the loremaster's words – just how much had the Twelfth Prince accomplished whilst Phendrana had been sleeping the morning away? "Castle Tethyr lies not far from two major trade routes – the Trade Way in Calimport and the Ithal Road in Saradush – but has been abandoned since the Ten Black Days of Eleint in 1347. History tells of a fire that was plotted by the heir apparent to the throne, Prince Alemander, who grew tired of waiting for his father, then sovereign King Alemander the Fourth, to pass away through natural means. The entire line of succession was eliminated when the great fire engulfed the castle, putting an end even to the foolish prince, his wife, and his two young sons. Shortly after the blaze the neighboring kingdom endured the Ten Black Days of Eleint, so named for the series of events in which anyone suspected of having blood ties to the crown was murdered for fear that the corrupt days of King Alemander's monarchy would return if any of his descendants came into power. Decades of war followed the Ten Black Days and lasted until the current rulers, Count Lhorik Sunspear and Duchess Marilyn Haresdown, claimed the throne in 1369; at the Duchess's suggestion the seat of power was moved to Darromar, some three hundred miles to the east, and Castle Tethyr was left to become a ruin. Now it is little more than untamed wilderness, and tales of the ruins being haunted by the ghosts of King Alemander's successors have only served to keep passing caravans from traveling too near the castle's walls."

Telamont nodded along sagely, pleased with his youngest sons' synopsis. "The Ten Black Days of Eleint is not unknown to me. It served as a shining example to kings and queens the world over how not to rule their kingdoms."

Brennus was in full agreement. "Yes, Most High One."

The High Prince was studying the reflection of the derelict castle with increasing suspicion; at length he continued, "I find it difficult to believe that Castle Tethyr has not been plundered for all of its hidden riches years ago. It does not take an excavation team to see that the structural integrity is quite poor – any enchantments the line of Alemander may have enacted during its rule will have long since expired, not to mention that foot traffic is quite high in that region as the Trade Way is one of the most traveled routes in Faerun. There are enough foolish treasure hunters in the world that the rumors of hauntings within the castle walls would not have served to keep the curious and greedy away for long. I suspect that either the Netherese armory was located and robbed of any priceless artifacts years ago, or it is well hidden – as only our cryptic ancestors could have managed."

"Netherese archwizards had already begun to develop a fascination with both the Plane of Shadow and the Underdark long before Thultanthar was relocated to the Shadow Realm," Brennus mused, stroking his chin thoughtfully with one hand. "Research has proven time and again that they preferred to hide their most prized artifacts beneath the earth, in lightless caverns that common folk would not dare to navigate. I cannot tell for certain without excavating the surrounding area, but I think it is safe to assume that the armory is located beneath the castle's foundation – perhaps catacombs, underground mausoleums that house the remains of Alemander's line."

Telamont waved his hand dismissively over the world window, and the surface darkened and returned to its glassy dormant state. "Your logic is irrefutable, and your optimism is a comfort to me. Now you must decide: do you wish to lead your arcanists in and excavate the ruins to gain a better understanding of the region? I leave the final decision to you, for I have much to attend to in the days to come."

Brennus straightened; it was apparent in his posture that he had already made his decision. "I am nothing if not thorough – I will assemble a small team of arcanists, archeologists and historians to journey to Castle Tethyr before the week is out, but I will accompany them myself to the site. It seems only fitting that I attend, for the scroll is in my keeping and the translation was my own."

Telamont nodded along, his passive expression suggesting that he was not at all surprised by his youngest sons' request. "Be on your way, as you have said, before the week has come to an end. Keep in mind that a great many of your arcanists are not shades, so you will need to arrange an alternate means of transportation for your excavating party. I want the names of those accompanying you, your proposed route and means of travel, and your itinerary before you depart."

The Twelfth Prince bowed low, allowing that single gesture to serve as his acquiescence. When he rose he glanced sidelong at Phendrana, who had been standing quietly by and observing all the time. "With your permission, Most High One, I would like Phendrana to accompany me also. This is a valuable opportunity for him to gain some knowledge regarding the ancient Netherese, and as I have been charged with teaching him the language I do think this experience will be invaluable to him in the future." Brennus smiled, presumably at some private joke, before adding, "That, and I would hate for him to feel as though he will never be permitted to leave this place now that he has agreed to join us."

"I agree," said Telamont a little bemusedly, glancing Phendrana's way with a fond smile and chuckling beneath his breath at Brennus's joke. "The choice is Phendrana's, of course. He is free to accompany you if he wishes, or he can remain here – there will be no shortage of tasks for him to undertake if he does!"

Phendrana glanced Brennus's way to find the loremaster smiling his familiar lopsided, quietly intelligent smile, and found that he couldn't refuse him. "I have heard tales of the haunting of Castle Tethyr in my younger days – I confess, Xanther once believed the place to be the lair of an elder brass dragon, and though we made arrangements to travel to the lands of Tethyr we were deterred by the rumors and never set foot near the place. I have long thought it would be a fascinating place to visit. I would be pleased to accompany you, Prince Brennus, if you believe I may be of some use to you."

"Oh, I believe you will find this journey incredibly enlightening," Brennus told him excitedly, and he clapped his hands together once. "Might you excuse Phendrana from council sessions as well, High Prince, so that he might also prepare?"

"I suppose that is a reasonable request," Telamont agreed. "I will summon you both if you are needed. For now, though, leave me. I have much to attend to and while the Nether Scrolls will always be of interest to me, at the moment it is quite low on my list of priorities. I am trusting you with this responsibility, Brennus. Handle this situation with great insight and care."

Brennus signaled to Phendrana that they should be on their way, and with respectful nods for the High Prince of the City of Shade they hurried out of the audience hall. They were immediately hailed on the other side of the great black double doors by Fourth Prince Aglarel and Fifth Prince Clariburnus, who appeared to be loitering in the Great Hall waiting for them.

"Words cannot express my envy," said Clariburnus, and he was seething but not in a hostile way. "A Netherese armory! Imagine the artifacts you will find if the armory has remained sealed and untouched all these years! I do so wish that I could accompany you, brother." Telamont's battle captain shot his gaze Phendrana's way when he finished, "You are going with him? You are lucky. I would trade much to be a part of this expedition."

"Can you not request to travel alongside us?" Phendrana inquired, and Clariburnus shook his head at once.

"I attempted to do so at council this morning – and I assure you, I was not the only one! – but the Most High was adamant. Rivalen is hard at work divining the location of the portal Lim Tal'eyve conjured that connected to Thultanthar, and when he has the answer I will be leading an army to wipe out the phaerimm that escaped. Organizing the war party is now the High Prince's highest priority – he has elevated this beyond even our continued negotiations with Waterdeep and Silverymoon."

"Then take great care," Brennus bade his older brother, a crease of concern forming between his eyebrows. "I have not seen a group of phaerimm of that size in centuries. They will be formidable foes when you catch up with them… leave nothing to chance."

Clariburnus nodded, moving past them as he did so. "Believe me, I do not intend to take the phaerimm lightly. Perhaps I will visit with you on the matter later on this evening, but this is where I must leave you for now. The Most High wishes to begin formulating battle plans right away." He pushed the door open with one hand, disappearing into the welcoming shadows that perpetually surrounded the High Prince's audience chamber, and Aglarel followed without a word to either of them.

"With all due respect," Phendrana began sheepishly, "is Prince Aglarel always so…?" He trailed off, looking uncomfortable, and Brennus's shoulders shook with silent laughter.

"Surly? Anti-social? Downright inhospitable?" Brennus gestured to the doppelganger and led the way down the hall at a leisurely pace. "Take your pick – he will tell you himself that he is all of these things, and always has been!"

Phendrana was struck with a sudden and unexplainable feeling of melancholy then, and it prompted him to say, "It is so strange to me… to think that one day very soon I will be a part of this society, when I know so little about all of you. I cannot help but wonder… will I ever fit in?"

They had reached the door to their private quarters by the time Phendrana had finished voicing his musings aloud; Brennus allowed the doppelganger to enter first, and he shut the door behind them looking contemplative. For a moment Phendrana worried that he had said something offensive, and turning back he hastened to form an apology – only to be overridden by the loremaster's surprising proposition.

"Very well – ask me anything."


	3. Three Steps From This Nightmare

Phendrana was so taken aback by the Twelfth Prince's words that he could only stare back at him, dumbfounded, with his mouth hanging slightly agape and his eyes a hint wider than was normal. For his part Brennus carried about his business as though nothing was amiss, shrugging out of his loremaster's robes and moving to the table near the door; when their eyes next met, his expression was expectant. Was he really waiting for Phendrana to start asking questions?

"I do not think it is my place," the mindmaster managed to murmur at last, shifting from one foot to the other, his discomfort evident.

"Perhaps it would be considered overstepping your bounds if you began prying into our private lives and affairs without invitation," Brennus agreed with a shrug, and taking up the bottle of Netherese heartwine that had been left there he uncorked it and poured two glasses half-full. "But I invited your questions."

He offered one of the glasses to Phendrana; the doppelganger accepted it, not wanting to seem rude, and when he took hold of the delicate crystal stem of the glass their fingers brushed together. Their eyes met for a split second before Brennus drew his hand back, seeming coy as he retreated to his bed and sat down upon the edge of the mattress. Phendrana watched his every movement, confused by the way his skin heated up just from watching the loremaster gracefully cross the room, and after a time Brennus chuckled softly and patted the plush bedspread with one hand, saying, "It would seem rude to keep me waiting, don't you think?"

"Of course," the doppelganger murmured embarrassedly, and kicking off his boots near the door he sat down on the opposite side of the bed facing Brennus, crossing his legs and taking a sip of the wine; the delicate floral bouquet, combined with the sweet, almost nectar-like taste upon his tongue, convinced him just a little bit more that perhaps he should drink wine more often. Brennus surveyed him over the rim of his own glass, his eyes still heavy with anticipation and his expression just as open and inviting as before; the intensity of his gaze made Phendrana blush. "I fear I do not know where to start."

"Then perhaps you will permit me to ask a question of my own?" Brennus inquired, and at an earnest nod from Phendrana he leaned forward, glass cradled in his right hand and his elbows balanced on his knees. "You are of Cormyr, are you not? Will you tell me about it?"

"It's true I am of Cormyr," Phendrana answered, "but I lived very little of my life there. I was born in Arabel the youngest of five children, all pure-blood doppelgangers themselves but living the physical lives of elves from King's Forest. In the first few years of my life I was taught never to show anyone my true form, and though the memories I retain of my family are mostly fond ones I have always resented their insistence that I hide myself away."

"You speak of your family as though they are no longer a part of your life," Brennus observed quietly, a touch of sympathy in his voice, and Phendrana nodded a little sadly.

"I ran from that place the moment I was old enough to fend for myself in the wilderness," the doppelganger confessed, sipping thoughtfully at his glass of heartwine. "I returned from time to time to deliver them coin from my travels, for they had lived in near-poverty for as long as I can remember. I was far away - aiding Zerena, if memory serves - when I heard that Arabel had been attacked by a pair of green dragons. I made haste back to my birthplace, but it was many days before I was able to arrive; by the time I got there, my family had been dead for days. The city has recovered and thrived since then, of course, but my family passed beyond the Veil many years ago."

Brennus regarded Phendrana with great empathy when he said, "I apologize sincerely for your loss. Whether we are close with our kin or not, nothing lessens the grief we feel when they are taken from us… If it may serve as some consolation, I am certain that they would be proud of your many selfless accomplishments if they could see you today."

"You do me a great kindness," said Phendrana with a smile that was half-gratitude and half-despair, and reaching over he placed his glass on the end-table near the prince's bed and balanced his chin on one hand, looking inquisitive. "A question for a question, then?"

Brennus gestured lazily with one hand, a clear indicator that Phendrana should continue, and so Phendrana asked a question that had been on his mind for quite some time. "Both Hadrhune and Soleil are members of the Shadow Council, but neither of them have any relation to the Tanthul family, correct? How did they come to serve the High Prince at all?"

"Ah," said Brennus, and he leaned forward and pitched his voice conspiratorially low. "They are both curious additions to our ranks, and their presence upon what has long been considered the governing body of Shade Enclave was met with great skepticism in the early days of their tenure. Hadrhune was brought into Thultanthar as a taciturn young elf of Neverwinter only a month or two before I was made a shade, on suspicion of having too much information concerning our way of life. Little is known of how the Most High dealt with Hadrhune – the public story is that the Most High interrogated him privately for a short period of time, and after speaking with him briefly he permitted Hadrhune to remain in the City of Shade peaceably if he agreed to pledge his allegiance and renounce his ties to the Material Plane. How the High Prince convinced Hadrhune of all these things is a mystery even to my brothers and me, but I speculate that the Most High offered Hadrhune a great many bribes to keep his information to himself – and Hadrhune, in his never-diminishing lust for power, was easily swayed by such promises. Still, the High Prince kept him under close watch for several hundred years before offering to make him a shade – as an elf of Neverwinter, Hadrhune had blood ties to the ancient Netherese archwizards from whom the Tanthul family is descended, and so fulfilled that most important requirement.

"Soleil's story is not much different; she was just a young girl when she was caught infiltrating the city as per her orders from the thieves' guild in Waterdeep that she was employed with at the time. Aglarel is the one who caught her – by the time he realized there had been a security breach she was trying to gain access to the Palace! Even at a young age she was very cunning…" Brennus broke off with a fond smile before continuing on. "At any rate, Aglarel brought her before the Most High, who was taken by her purity of heart and her unfaltering honesty. As he had never had any daughters of his own, the Most High took her in and has called her his daughter since that day. I do think that none in all the enclave was happier to hear of her betrothal to Prince Escanor, for it means that one day soon she will truly be a part of the Tanthul family."

"A fascinating story," Phendrana observed, taking up his wine glass again with one hand and offering the loremaster a pillow with the other; Brennus accepted it and propped it against one of the posts at the foot of the bed before leaning back comfortably against it. Phendrana relaxed back against the mound of black velvet pillows behind him, nodding to indicate that it was Brennus's turn, and the Twelfth Prince obliged him at once.

"The utter complexity of your mind and how it works the way that it does has always been terribly interesting to me… but how did your mind come to fragment itself in the way that it has? Clearly you are very brilliant, and you have always seemed to be of a sane mind…" He trailed off uncertainly, wearing a slightly uncomfortable expression that suggested he felt his words would be taken offensively, and Phendrana hastened to put those fears at ease.

"No one has ever asked me such a thing – then again, there are not many people who can say that they even know I exist." The doppelganger forced a wry smile onto his face, taking a small sip of the Netherese heartwine before moving on. "It started with Xanther, the half-elf platinum knight who was the first hero who ever awed me with his achievements. In life Xanther was fearless; he spent his days protecting defenseless settlements in the untamed portions of the world from the senseless devastation that chromatic dragons are so fond of causing, and he offered his services free of charge and with little thought for himself. He was the sort of man I had always wanted to be, and in the foolishness of my youth I decided to meet him in person." Despair clouded the doppelganger's face then, presumably as some black memory surfaced in his thoughts. "Xanther traveled a great deal, and so it took me many months to locate him… when I did it was in the lair of the dragon he was then contracted to destroy, and by the time I arrived the creature had all but torn his body apart.

"It was as he was dying in my arms that it happened – nothing profound, really, I just suddenly felt overcome with the urge to _know_ the brave man who had given so much and never taken anything for himself. And as the light was leaving his eyes I kept wishing, praying, hoping with every fiber of my being, when suddenly I _felt_ him there, in my mind, as though he had been there all the time." Phendrana shrugged his shoulders helplessly, feeling as though his explanation was inadequate. "It is… difficult… to explain."

"I can only imagine," Brennus told him with a sorrowful shake of his head. "Did the five others join you in such a similarly traumatic way?"

Phendrana blew a sigh. "Unfortunately, yes. Fortune has never smiled kindly on me."

"Will you tell me about them?" The Twelfth Prince was having difficulty keeping a hold on his morbid interest in Phendrana's past, and it showed in the next moment when he clapped one hand to his mouth embarrassedly; Phendrana offered him a small smile as he finished his half-glass of wine.

"Perhaps," he chided coyly, "after you have answered a question for me."

Brennus slid off the bedspread, collecting the doppelganger's empty wine glass and refilling it a third of the way at Phendrana's suggestion. He drained the last dark violet drops of his own before flashing a grin of his ivory ceremonial fangs and saying, "It would seem only fair, I suppose! Very well. Ask."

"You once began to describe to me the capabilities I could expect to gain upon becoming a shade. What exactly does that entail? I have to admit," the doppelganger broke off, smirking guiltily, "I am a little excited to learn firsthand."

"And you should be." Brennus finished pouring his own glass and returned to the bed, stacking his pillow against the headboard with the others and sliding into place next to Phendrana; he rotated his wrist in small circles, stirring the wine elegantly and gazing thoughtfully at the ceiling. "There seems to be some link between the shadow essence assimilating into one's body and heightened senses – the current theory is that it recognizes the one sense the host was most dependent on before surrendering its soul, and intensifies it accordingly. Aglarel claims to have gained a soundless step – that is, he can move about silently at will. This skill has served him particularly well, for he often functions as the High Prince's personal assassin when we hear tell of individuals who mean harm to the enclave. Hadrhune boasts a heightened sensitivity to the presence of shadow magic; I have never thought to question his claim, for next to the High Prince he is the most acclaimed shadow sorcerer known to Thultanthar.

"Let me see…" Brennus continued to swill his wine glass, lost in thought. "Dethud is unnaturally attuned to the departed, most likely because he has spent centuries of his life studying the school of necromancy. Once I allowed him to accompany me to an excavation site much like the one you and I will soon be facing, a hundred miles or so from the ruins of Heliogabalus in the Bloodstone Lands; we were unexpectedly ambushed by a flock of wyverns, and when the battle began to turn against us Dethud summoned an army of undead completely without the use of incantations or spell components. It was truly a sight to behold…

"Clariburnus experienced roughly a doubling of his physical strength and stamina, owing to the fact that he has been the High Prince's battle captain and the undisputed general of the Army of Shade since the day of his Determining. I once saw him instructing a group of first year warrior-students in the Hall of the Arts Martial, and to demonstrate various battle techniques he squared off against six senior students simultaneously, and won. Mattick and Vattick are both practiced alchemists, a hobby they picked up from years of attending the Shadow Mages' College as senior arcanists, and when they became shades they both developed a preternaturally keen sense of smell which has long aided them in producing rather potent potions and poisons; I am a seasoned alchemist myself, but I often have them prepare such substances for me."

"And what skill did you gain upon becoming a shade?" Phendrana asked curiously, and Brennus grinned almost coyly and shook his head with a playful sort of insistency.

"Now now – we had a deal, Phendrana. Tell me about the others you assimilated into your mind, and afterward I will consider answering your question."

They laughed together easily and naturally, their arms now lightly connected from shoulder to elbow, and it was with thoughts that buzzed slightly with the effects of inebriation that Phendrana acquiesced to the loremaster's request.

"Vadania came to me after Xanther, and completely by accident." The doppelganger sighed a little sadly, his eyes taking on a vacant quality that suggested he was glimpsing events not happening before his waking vision. "I was traveling the Spine of the World at Xanther's insistence, seeking the lair of a white dragon that had reportedly laid waste to several tundra villages with poor defenses, when I stumbled across a war party of Neanderthals and uldras that had just raided the commanding outpost of a snow elf kingdom. As their battle captive they had claimed the tribe's orphaned princess Vadania, and they bound her to a stake and danced at her feet as she burned." A flash of pain flitted unbidden across Phendrana's face then, and his next words were hoarse with emotion. "I dispatched most of them using my mind magic – the others fled without a backward glance, but I was unable to save Vadania. Her mind assimilated itself into my psyche, and later we were able to track down the rest of the rebels together, and slay them.

"Alax was next – he was on the run from both sides of his heritage, who both believed they had reason to destroy him. The humans from which he was descended feared his dark elf heritage and had long viewed their kind with great mistrust, and the drow despised the strange sect of cerebrex magic that Alax had taken to studying in his time living among them. He escaped to the surface but was mercilessly pursued until he hadn't the strength to elude both sides any longer… I found him in the throes of battle with one of the drow priestesses to whom he was related, but before I could act on his behalf his body was utterly destroyed by an acidic cone.

"Zerena suffered a similar fate, though it was the innate kindness toward all creatures that she possesses that led to her undoing. As you know, the gloamings are rare creatures native only to the Underdark; she felt that she could not survive down there, surrounded by creatures too ambitious and greedy for her tastes, and so abandoned her kind in favor of living in the World That Sees the Sun. Above the ground, though, the gloamings are an anomaly, and Zerena was hunted simply because she was different… Eventually she was overwhelmed by the sheer amount of parties pursuing her, and she didn't even put up a fight when they came for her because she could not bear the thought of harming someone just to save her own life." Phendrana broke off again, and it was his melancholy expression that led Brennus to understand that Zerena's death pained the doppelganger perhaps the most of all. "I think it is because we share similar views that we have always been so close… Neither of us has ever wanted more from life than to be accepted for who we are, and surround ourselves with people who do not judge us based on our appearances.

"Ristel's end-of-life story, in my opinion, is perhaps the saddest of all; he was the wizard serving a group of seafaring mercenaries that sailed up and down the Sword Coast, keeping the oceans safe from pirates. One of the dukes residing within Baldur's Gate was quite fond of Ristel, and even offered Ristel the hand of his daughter in marriage… They were betrothed when the vessel Ristel served upon was overrun by pirates, and he was drowned along with the rest of the unfortunate crew members. We returned to the region several years later, after we had acquired Kiora as the most recent member of my psyche, and in a rare moment of weakness Ristel felt compelled to visit his fiancée to see about her safety. She had married since his death, and was round with her husband's child. Ristel seldom speaks of her now.

"And Kiora's story is well known to you, I am sure; her family was murdered by the shade Leevoth, though for what reason I can only guess. It was as I was impersonating Kiora in her search for Leevoth that I became acquainted with Aidan, Aust, and Ivy: they were the first to learn of my real identity, long after Kiora had claimed vengeance on Leevoth."

Brennus was a good audience; he listened rapturously to every word Phendrana spoke, his eyes fixed interestedly upon the doppelganger's face, and when the story was finished he regarded Phendrana with an expression of quiet sadness and pity. "Yours is a life fraught with much peril and sorrow," he observed at length, his tone one of care and consideration. "I know few men who could endure such suffering. It grieves me that you carry such troubles around with you… If only I was a stronger man, and I could shoulder your burden with you."

One of the loremaster's hands was rubbing between Phendrana's shoulder blades as he spoke; Phendrana wasn't sure when Brennus had taken to doing so, but he could not bring himself to protest for the motion was so soothing to his troubled nerves that he hadn't the strength. His eyes fell upon the delicate wine glass in the loremaster's other hand, watching the last of the heartwine slosh gently against the sides of the crystal, somehow entranced by the way the deep violet-crimson liquid lapped at the translucent surface.

"I do hate to ruin your musings," Brennus broke in softly, "but I believe it is your turn to question me, if you feel so inclined."

Phendrana glanced up to find that Brennus had drifted a fraction closer; the Twelfth Prince watched him with his curious bronze eyes, his fingertips lightly brushing Phendrana's back from shoulder blade to shoulder blade, and the intensity of his gaze was such that the doppelganger nearly forgot his question. "What sense did you gain…?"

Fortunately, Brennus vaguely recalled their earlier discussion which had prompted Phendrana's inquiry. "Ahh… yes." He withdrew his hand from Phendrana's back and tapped one index finger lightly against his own forehead, saying, "Superior intellect. I was quite intelligent before my transformation – as all of my brothers will attest – but it was nothing compared to the mental facilities I displayed upon becoming a shade. There is proof to support my boasts, even – Third Prince Lamorak put me through a series of grueling tests to better gauge my intelligence quotient, and the results were exponentially higher than the intellect I had displayed prior to my transformation."

"Miraculous," Phendrana breathed, scarcely daring to believe what he had heard. "To think that the essence of shadow has the power to grant such abilities… I am speechless. I can only wonder how different I will be when my time comes."

Brennus drained the last of his second half-glass of wine; Phendrana's eyes flitted involuntarily to the Twelfth Prince's Adam's apple, watching with great interest as the loremaster swallowed, and pried his eyes away with a measure of difficulty as Brennus set the empty glass aside upon the end table. "I daresay your heightened sense will have something to do with your already highly developed sway over the mind. Perhaps the abilities you are already so familiar with will simply intensify, or it may be that you acquire all new mental skills that you had no knowledge of before. Regardless, I am certain the results will be a sight to behold."

The silence between them was saturated with tension; Phendrana couldn't remember ever feeling so anxious for anything, but perhaps strangest of all, it was not unpleasant. Brennus seemed to remember it was his turn after a moment or two, and cleared his throat.

"What made you at last decide to accept the High Prince's generous proposal?"

Phendrana shrugged and settled back into the mound of black velvet pillows, his drained wine glass laying lopsided and forgotten at the opposite edge of the mattress. "It was a combination of factors, really. Being witness to the negotiations between Thultanthar and Waterdeep made me begin to re-evaluate my own perception of what is really good and what is truly evil; I will admit, the treatment you and your entourage suffered at the hands of Open Lord Paladinson altered the way I see many things. Attending the High Prince's birthday celebration was also quite enlightening; witnessing the way you and your fellow council members coexist and cooperate was somehow inspiring to me, and made me consider for the first time that perhaps this was the place I belonged. Apart from that… the way that you have all worked so hard to make me feel welcome here, and ensure that my transition from this life into the life of a shade is as seamless as possible… I confess myself flattered by your attention to my needs. I know beyond the shadow of a doubt now that this is the place for which I have been searching, the place where I am meant to spend the rest of my days."

Brennus's eyes shone proudly within his shadow-swathed face, as though with those words Phendrana had done him some great honor; when he smiled the doppelganger's eyes strayed to the ivory ceremonial fangs that gleamed in the light from the violet-flamed candles, prompting Phendrana to ask impulsively, "Your fangs… are they real?"

At first it was only the sound of the loremaster's low-pitched chuckle that served as his reply, then he shifted so that his torso was angled in Phendrana's direction and his weight was mostly supported by his right arm. When he grinned, the expression was somehow maniacal. "Is that your question?"

Phendrana swallowed and instinctively shrank back a fraction, uneasy yet intrigued all at once. When he replied his voice was a breathy, almost sensual whisper. "Yes."

Brennus watched the mindmaster with a greedy sort of fascination, his bronze eyes veritably smoldering and those exposed fangs glinting a steely cobalt in the light from the unnatural flame. "They are indeed real. The Most High, my brothers and I, and Hadrhune all have them and wear them proudly – they are a symbol of our elevated stations, and our great power. They are ornamental in nature, however – they serve no other purpose."

"None?" mumbled Phendrana, mesmerized by a combination of the eerie light and the effects of his mild state of intoxication and the ever-looming threat of the Twelfth Prince's dangerous, razor-sharp fangs hovering in such close proximity to his skin; Brennus took note of his obvious anxiety, but was drawn in by the doppelganger's more prominent interest.

"Lie back," hissed the loremaster, and as he had earlier Phendrana felt compelled to trust Brennus blindly; he leaned back a few more inches until he was fully reclined on the mound of black velvet pillows, his body propped at a forty five degree angle. Brennus leaned over him, all mirth absent from his expression now as he surveyed Phendrana with hungry, heavy-lidded eyes; there was a fleeting moment in which Brennus seemed almost frightened by what he was about to do, but it was brief and quickly replaced but his customary self-assurance. He raised his left hand before Phendrana's slightly-widened eyes and extended his index finger, and with the dexterous ebon-skinned digit he nudged the doppelganger's chin back a fraction, thus exposing his throat.

His voice washed over Phendrana like the gentle yet insistent surface of an undisturbed pool, calming yet terrifying in its heady suffocation. "Keep very still."

Brennus dipped his head even as the mindmaster sucked in a ragged breath and gasped out, "Prince – "

"Do you not trust me, Phendrana?" murmured Twelfth Prince Brennus, traces of disparate emotions such as amusement and hurt and uncertainty present in his tone, and it was a combination of Phendrana's desire to please him and the almost overwhelming urge to be near him that ended all protests. Brennus ducked lowered, disappearing below the doppelganger's line of sight, and a moment later Phendrana felt the unmistakable scraping sensation as Brennus nipped lightly at the tender flesh of Phendrana's exposed throat with his ceremonial fangs.

It was a sensation unlike anything Phendrana had ever experienced. For most of his life he had dedicated himself to pursuing the endeavors of others, and so he had set aside his own fundamental desires and never really wanted for anything. It wasn't until he had become acquainted with Rosalles and dared to believe that he could trust someone with his true identity that he had begun to acknowledge the long-buried desires of his own heart; he had known physical pleasure at Rosalles's hands, surely, but even those encounters had been brief and filled with their mutual feelings of uncertainty and self doubt.

Those encounters were nothing like this, the moment in which a simple, barely-comprehensible touch ignited a thousand insistent and all-consuming fires upon every millimeter of Phendrana's suddenly too-sensitive skin. He gasped at the feeling of those two razor-sharp points pressing with exaggerated care against his swiftly-pulsing carotid artery, his mind reeling as he struggled to form even one coherent thought, and the wash of Brennus's hot breath as he exhaled raised goosebumps upon the doppelganger's skin. The loremaster cocked his head to one side, feeling the flutter of Phendrana's pulse with his glistening fangs, and traced the tip of his tongue in a most languid fashion over the crest of the mindmaster's Adam's apple.

Phendrana would not have been surprised to find that his skin had burst into flame.

A heavy, somehow morose knock sounded on the door of the private chambers they shared and in the next instant Brennus was in motion; he melted into his own shadow and re-materialized across the room, the two empty wine glasses in one hand and the uncorked bottle of Netherese heartwine in the other, his expression smooth and measured as though nothing were amiss. The door cracked open just as Phendrana was bolting upright into a sitting position, smoothing the front of his new robes with two slightly-trembling hands and hoping against hope that his cheeks were not burning with blush. Simultaneously they glanced toward the door to identify just who had interrupted such a private moment –

It was Hadrhune.


	4. Four Steps From the Door

Brennus paused in pouring the second glass of wine, his mouth open to greet the seneschal, but Hadrhune moved quickly enough to thwart any such salutation; he admitted himself without asking and swiftly shut the door behind him, and turning fully to face the youngest of the High Prince's sons he waved off the offer of heartwine and muttered hurriedly, "I haven't much time."

"Of course," Brennus replied in an accommodating fashion, setting the glasses and the bottle back in place upon the small table near the door as Phendrana did his best to rise inconspicuously from the bed and approach the pair of shades. "Tell me how I can help you, Hadrhune."

Phendrana wondered curiously just why Brennus was treating Hadrhune, his technical insubordinate, with such obvious care, but in the next moment he understood a little better as to why – the seneschal's normally keen amber eyes were the color of dull metal within a face drawn with exhaustion, his shadow shroud was wrinkled as though it had been slept in, and perhaps for the first time he had left his private quarters without his darkstaff in hand. Though Phendrana knew very little about the High Prince's favored shadow sorcerer, he knew that this was a rare occurrence indeed.

"I beg of you – you must come with me, and quickly." Hadrhune was speaking rapidly and in hushed undertones; Phendrana had to drift a step or two nearer just to catch the words. "She seems to be sleeping, but in her state she may awaken at any time… There is something I need you to see." He paused long enough to run a hand down his face, looking haggard and defeated, before he finished, "I fear I can no longer make sense of these riddles on my own."

Brennus nodded once, looking contemplative as Phendrana completed his measured approach; the loremaster clapped one hand down upon Hadrhune's shoulder, a clear indicator that the seneschal should lead the way, and almost as an afterthought Phendrana wound his fingers around the loremaster's wrist for fear he might be left behind. He was afforded a clear glimpse of the naked uncertainty in Brennus's eyes, but only for a moment – in the next instant they were melting into their own shadows and stepping into the ever-changing, labyrinthine expanse of the Realm of Shadow.

It was the first time passing through the thick veils of murk that Phendrana thought perhaps he could make a little sense of his surroundings. As they moved he was certain he could distinguish differences between certain features – were those slightly darker, solid-looking shadows in his peripheral vision walls, perhaps? It was always a wonder traversing the land of shadows, and secretly the doppelganger was pleased to finally make sense of all that he was seeing.

The Twelfth Prince tugged on the arm that Phendrana clutched in his hand then, effectively pulling him back into the Material Plane alongside him as Hadrhune stepped through the miniscule rift between dimensions; Phendrana blinked a few times to allow his eyes to readjust from near complete darkness to a brighter but not harsh violet candlelight, and then took a look around. The room Hadrhune had led them to was not dissimilar to the one that Phendrana and Brennus were currently sharing, furnished with two four-poster beds, twin ebony end tables and a dining table near the door; there was an attached bathing room on the opposite side of their chambers, but the door was closed and the soft light from the lit candles barely reached the door. One of the beds was neatly made – Phendrana doubted it had been slept in at all – and on the other Archmistress Aveil Arthien slept fitfully. At first glance she appeared perfectly normal – dark hair framed a heart-shaped alabaster face, full lips slightly parted as she breathed deeply and a crease in her brow that was the by product, perhaps, of some wicked dream – but as the three of them drifted slowly and quietly nearer it became glaringly obvious that something was amiss. It was many moments before Phendrana could comprehend just what he was seeing, and when realization at last dawned he couldn't help but start – her skin was vaguely translucent, the dark blue throw upon which she lay visible through her body.

Brennus stretched out one hand disbelievingly as though he meant to touch her, but Hadrhune was faster; the seneschal darted out a hand and seized the loremaster by the wrist, his expression apologetic but also desperate. "Forgive me, Prince Brennus – I am aware that I am overstepping my bounds, but I must insist that you refrain from waking her. Already she is suspicious of my intentions – this is the first rest she has allowed herself to take since she returned from beyond the Veil."

The loremaster nodded calmly, and Phendrana found himself in quiet awe of the youngest prince's patience and his even temperament; Brennus tugged his arm out of Hadrhune's grasp and knelt at the Archmistress's bedside, inspecting the odd consistency of her skin with his keen bronze eyes. There was a tense sort of silence as he studied her, often punctuated by the seneschal's impatient little sighs and his near-constant shifting of weight. At last Brennus glanced over his shoulder, a crease forming between his eyes as he addressed Hadrhune in a careful whisper. "What sorcery is this?"

"I don't understand," Hadrhune rumbled, crossing his arms over his chest defensively.

"I mean that some ill has obviously befallen her, but the nature of this particular affliction is beyond my ability to comprehend – much less begin to treat." Brennus rose from his crouch, dusting off the front of his robes meticulously. "I would insist that she is a wraith, but the symptoms do not coincide. She breathes. She sleeps. Have you seen her consume anything? Food? Water?"

"Yes," Hadrhune hissed. "Both."

"She bathes? She relieves herself regularly?"

"Yes. I monitor all of her movements very closely. With the exception of her unexplainable physical state, she behaves no differently than before."

Brennus was glancing alternately between Aveil and Hadrhune, his gaze hardening with suspicion with every passing moment – was Phendrana imagining it, or was Hadrhune looking more and more nervous the longer Brennus watched him? At last the loremaster moved so near to the seneschal that his lips brushed Hadrhune's ear as he murmured almost intimately, "What is it that you truly wished me to witness?"

Hadrhune began explaining in a pinched undertone, as though to speak the words at all caused him great torment, but Phendrana focused more and more on the slumbering woman before him until gradually the seneschal's words ceased to fall upon the doppelganger's ears. Using his superior mental abilities he stretched out toward Aveil's subconscious mind, easily breaching her mental defenses while she slept, and once there he worked tirelessly to make sense of her half-formed, chaotic thoughts. What he found there was a jumble of topics and happenstances that he pieced together using his limited understanding of her – flashes of images of her and Hadrhune joined intimately, which he did he best to put out of his mind, intermixed with snippets of a conversation she appeared to be having with the drow Lim Tal'eyve; the words were difficult to discern at times, and the finer points seemed to fade away into an incomprehensible blur as her slumbering mind skimmed over the details, but he caught the gist as best he could. He was just about to exit her thoughts when something fascinating happened – he watched as Lim offered Aveil a ring, within which was set a curious trilliant stone that appeared almost colorless, and after a moment's hesitation the Archmistress slipped the gem onto her littlest finger and awoke suddenly in the presence of Hadrhune, Most High Telamont, Second Prince Rivalen, and Soleil Chemaut.

Phendrana gasped and withdrew his mental influence from her subconscious mind so quickly that he flinched away from her; Brennus was at his side almost immediately, his hand clutching the doppelganger's elbow with no small amount of force and his bronze eyes burning with concern. "What is it?"

The mindmaster didn't answer right away; he took in several sharp breaths in a vain attempt to slow his heart rate, and his eyes slipped to the littlest finger of Aveil's left hand. There upon her finger was a curved silver band that wrapped intricately around a trilliant-cut, colorless stone – a ring identical to the one he had seen her accepting from Lim Tal'eyve in her dream. Enough pieces of the puzzle fell into place for Phendrana then that he was able to make a hypothesis of his own with a great amount of confidence; he matched Brennus's gaze with eyes that were grim and fearful when he said, "She is soulless."

Abruptly Phendrana was dragged away from Brennus; he stood then facing Hadrhune, for the seneschal's hands were clamped down upon the doppelganger's upper arms so tightly that Phendrana's fingers tingled from the sudden lack of circulation. He may have fallen to the floor, were it not for Hadrhune's grip on him, and suddenly the shadow sorcerer was growling accusations in his face as quietly and malevolently as he could manage. "On what grounds are you making such an audacious claim?! Do you truly believe that just because you are here at the Most High's invitation that you now have the authority to speak and behave however – "

"Hadrhune," snapped Brennus, in the iciest and most forbidding tone of voice Phendrana had ever heard him use, "release Phendrana _this instant_, or I will tear the shadow orb from your body."

The seneschal gaped at Brennus, looking scandalized. "But Prince - !"

"Do you think I will not keep my word on this?" Brennus warned. "Do you think me incapable? Me, the son of Most High Telamont?"

The threat hung in the air like a foul odor for the span of three heartbeats before Hadrhune wisely dropped his hands to his sides and took a step away from Phendrana; the doppelganger hastened to put even more space between them, and found himself gravitating to Brennus's side naturally. Brennus briefly pressed his hand against the small of Phendrana's back, a gesture that was meant to be soothing but shot sparks of lightning up and down the doppelganger's spine, but the loremaster was quick to retract his hand on account of the fact that they were not alone.

"Tell me what you meant by soulless," Brennus bade him in careful, calm tones, and Phendrana nodded once and turned back to the place where Aveil lay; despite the commotion, she was still sound asleep.

"While you were talking I infiltrated her mind," Phendrana admitted a little guiltily, doing his best to ignore Hadrhune's disgruntled sigh of disapproval, "for that is how I am able to best gauge a situation that I am not directly involved in. There are advantages to perusing a person's thoughts while they sleep – dreams may be chaotic and difficult to follow at times, but more often than not they contain fragments of true events that have occurred recently in the person's life, and while the target slumbers their mental resistance functions at its lowest level. Aveil happened to be dreaming about the events that occurred between her and Lim Tal'eyve during her brief sojourn beyond the Veil."

"Go on," Brennus encouraged, and the doppelganger hastened to oblige him.

"Much of the dialogue that passed between them was heavily fragmented, and I sensed that I missed much of it, but I watched her accept that ring from him." Phendrana pointed to the delicate-looking trilliant that Aveil wore on the littlest finger of her left hand; Hadrhune circled the four-poster bed and knelt at her side, inspecting the gem with heavy suspicion in his eyes, though Phendrana was given the impression that perhaps the seneschal had suspected the ring was the cause of Aveil's state all along. "I have seen such artifacts in my travels, for my unusual abilities often land me in situations that involve even more unusual fare; I believe that ring is the manifestation of Aveil's current state, or the empty vessel, as it is often referred to. It is the object that sustains one's life in circumstances that would otherwise be unlivable – in this case, it is what keeps her alive despite the fact that she has no soul residing within her body."

"How can you be certain of this?" Hadrhune demanded in as patient a voice as he could manage, and though Brennus glared at the seneschal disapprovingly he held his tongue this time.

Phendrana ran a hand down his face, doing his best not to appear downtrodden for Hadrhune's benefit; though the shadow sorcerer was working hard to appear composed, Phendrana knew that a single thoughtless remark could serve to shatter that façade. He kept his eyes upon the floor when he answered, "I have seen enough of deplorable states of life and death that I can sense these things. Trust me on this, for I am certain – the ring sustains her life. I suspect if you remove it, she will be forever lost."

For a moment Hadrhune lost his composure, and his face crumpled into an expression of absolute despair; he was quick to recover, though, or at least to make it appear that he had mastered himself, and he rose from his crouch and stepped away from Aveil's bedside as though being in such close proximity to her pained him. His eyes were on Brennus when he muttered, "If it's all the same to you, I'll have that drink now."

Brennus nodded knowingly – though a trace of his earlier hostility remained in the set of his jaw, Phendrana noted with interest – and extended a hand to indicate that Hadrhune should lead the way; the seneschal bent briefly at the waist in a show of obeisance before dissolving into his own shadow. The Twelfth Prince then turned to Phendrana and took his hand with the smallest of reassuring smiles, and they followed the Most High's chosen emissary into the Plane of Shadow. They wended their way through the thick curtains of darkness to some point that Brennus seemed to recognize, and stepping through the multi-dimensional rift they found themselves back in the private room within the Palace Most High that they shared to find that Hadrhune was already pouring himself a full glass of Netherese heartwine.

"Your health," the seneschal gasped out, tipping the glass in Brennus's direction, and then he drained half of the dark liquid in one swig.

"Do not misunderstand," Brennus told Phendrana, releasing the doppelganger's hand and putting space between them at once. "It is not that I doubt your claims, for I am certain that what you say is true… But if Aveil is without her soul and that ring serves as the vessel sustaining her, where is her soul currently being kept? What can be done to retrieve it?"

"It is obvious, is it not?" Hadrhune broke in, gulping the rest of the glass and pouring himself another without hesitation. "She passes into the afterlife for barely half an hour and returns to the living world without her soul… Clearly this is Lim Tal'eyve's doing. He has her soul in his keeping and is likely using it as leverage to force her to accomplish his ends, whatever those may be. Doubtless he has sworn to return it only in the event that she completes whatever devious task he has designed for her."

Phendrana was nodding along sadly. "I fear that your words hold more truth than you know."

"And of course the miserable wretch is far beyond my reach," Hadrhune continued dejectedly, swallowing more of the alcohol with a manic expression. "For rest assured, if he could be found anywhere on the Material Plane… There are no words to describe the terrible fate he would suffer at my hands."

By then he had ingested two full glasses of the potent Netherese heartwine in less than two minutes, and though his hand darted for the bottle Brennus proved the faster; the loremaster seized the bottle and jammed the cork back into place, holding it out of Hadrhune's reach, and for a moment the seneschal stood rooted to the spot with his hand clenched around the stem of the delicate crystal glass so firmly that Phendrana was certain it would shatter. For a second that lasted an eternity he stood there wearing the most deplorable expression that perhaps he had ever worn, and then he flung the empty glass at the wall and howled in rage. Phendrana glanced fearfully at Brennus out of the corner of his eye, certain the loremaster was about to reprimand Hadrhune for his actions, surprised to find the Twelfth Prince wearing an expression of utmost sympathy.

Hadrhune turned to face them then, his eyes fixed upon the ground and his trembling hands clenched into fists at his sides, and gasped out, "_This_ is the reason why I share nothing of myself with others. _This_ is the reason why I refuse to expose myself to matters of either a personal or an intimate nature. I have lost all sense of who I am… The Most High concerns himself over my numerous character flaws, the worry that my dedication to his cause and my willpower weaken with every passing moment that I remain in her company. Do not misunderstand – I am loyal to the High Prince, and would never dream of placing my interests or the interests of another above achieving his ends. But I fear that I am no longer _myself_. I feel stirrings of emotions somewhere within me that are more terrifying than anything I have ever had to face. I have allowed something to happen that I did not foresee… I have been unmade."

Brennus lifted a hand as though to soothe the seneschal, but Hadrhune stepped away; the Twelfth Prince allowed his arm to fall back to his side, looking as sorrowful as Phendrana had ever witnessed. As Hadrhune placed one hand upon the knob of the door, Brennus called out after him in a gentle voice: "It isn't a crime to fall in love, Hadrhune. The Most High's eldest son allowed himself to feel these emotions for another, and the experience has brought him nothing but joy. Allowing yourself to feel vulnerable in the presence of another can be liberating; the trust that spawns as a result of such carefully cultivated relationships is one of the strongest, most compelling forces I have ever seen. Don't fear it, Hadrhune. It may yet be that those feelings will save you from yourself."

It seemed that the seneschal's shoulders slumped at those words, but only for a moment; he seemed to remember that he was in the presence of one of the Princes of Shade and perhaps felt it unwise to lose his composure in such company, and so gathered himself immediately and cleared his throat. When he spoke, he did not turn around to regard them. "I apologize most profusely for my lapse in judgment and professionalism in your company, Prince Brennus. I will send someone presently to clear the mess I have made." And he excused himself without another word.

Brennus watched the door close behind Hadrhune with pity in his eyes; something about his expression prompted Phendrana to ask somberly, "Is it true that he has never been intimate with anyone?"

"His words were a little misleading, weren't they?" Brennus acknowledged, and turning away from the door he fixed Phendrana with a sad little smile and a helpless shrug of his shoulders. "It would have been nearer to the mark if he had confessed to never being _emotionally_ intimate with anyone, because there has never been a truer statement than that. Hadrhune guards himself more carefully than any man I have ever known, but for reasons that aren't known to anyone." A crease formed between the youngest prince's eyes, which were now fixed upon the shards of broken glass that was all that remained of the shattered toasting flute. "Since his induction into the Shadow Council and his transcendence from mortal to shade he has dedicated himself wholly to the advancement of the High Prince's interests; he thinks nothing for his own needs or desires except perhaps to cater to his own ambitions, which center almost completely around further entrenching himself within the Most High's most favored advisors. Occasionally he seeks intimate companionship, but of a purely physical nature, as we all do from time to time. The business that he undertook with the Citadel of Assassins on the High Prince's behalf is what led him to become acquainted with Archmistress Arthien in the first place – as I understand it their dealings with one another eventually led to a tryst between them, but by all accounts it was an isolated occurrence. Of all those serving upon the Shadow Council, Hadrhune is the last I would have assumed would find himself in a relationship that retains any sort of emotional value. It is quite unlike him, but then… this entire scenario is most irregular."

One thing that Brennus had said stood out from everything else, inciting within Phendrana a curious sensation that could almost be called envy; he wrestled within himself for several moments, for he knew to put words to his jealousies could cause nothing but enmity between him and the loremaster, but before he could compose himself the words were rolling off his tongue. "Are all the Princes of Shade somewhat cavalier with their personal lives, then?"

Perhaps Brennus misunderstood the true meaning behind this inquiry, Phendrana supposed, for he was very forthcoming with his reply. "Some of my brothers are more, shall we say, careless, in their personal lives than others…" He interrupted himself long enough to toss a playful wink and a conspiratorial grin Phendrana's way before asking, "I trust that the following information will remain between us?"

"You have my word," the doppelganger promised, and he was so taken by the obvious intrigue in the loremaster's voice that he momentarily forgot his ire.

They pulled up seats around the table near the door as Brennus poured two glasses of water, for which Phendrana was secretly grateful: he felt he had seen enough of wine for one day. The Twelfth Prince sipped daintily at his goblet, presumably while he collected his thoughts and considered just how much to share, and then he shifted a bit nearer and pitched his voice very low as he explained. "Rivalen took an oath of perpetual chastity upon being appointed as High Priest of Shar, or so he has told my brothers and me… We often jest amongst ourselves that that is the reason why he seems so taciturn, but we are never certain just how closely he follows his oath. Though I think he must adhere to it quite strongly, as he seems to hold the Dark Mother's utmost favor… The Lower Court, though, is comprised entirely of lesser nobles."

"Lower Court?" Phendrana interrupted, and Brennus snickered and shook his head once as though he disapproved of the need for such an addition to Thultanthar's hierarchy.

"Yes… What I mean is, those of noble blood who have no claim to the throne. The High Prince has fathered sons and daughters who are not of pure Netherese blood, and they all reside within the Lower Court; cousins of the Princes of Shade also belong to this sect, as well as illegitimate children born to my brothers." Brennus smirked at some private joke over the rim of his goblet before continuing. "Now, Tenth Prince Rapha… He has his own harem somewhere in the Lower District."

Phendrana promptly choked on a mouthful of water as he attempted to swallow. "T-Truly?!"

Brennus nodded sheepishly. "I confess that of my brothers he is perhaps the vainest; to date he has fathered eight children, the youngest of which was born just a few months ago."

"And… do all the Princes of Shade have children living within the city?" Phendrana wondered at the quaver in his voice and knew that he was afraid to hear the answer to his inquiry.

The loremaster sensed his anxiety, and worked to keep all traces of mirth from entering his expression; it was becoming clearer with every passing moment that Phendrana was quite terrified to become privy to such confidential information. When next he spoke, his words were said with great care. "Not all. Escanor is the Most High's immediate successor and so his actions have always been closely monitored – the High Prince would be most displeased if his eldest son fathered children with a woman that he did not approve of. Obviously Rivalen's vow of chastity keeps him from having children of his own also; Aglarel has no children of his own, but this is primarily due to the fact that he guards himself as though secrecy were his most treasured ally and he trusts very few non-shades. And of course I have no children, but for obvious reasons."

"Obvious… reasons?" Phendrana asked, trying and failing to keep his voice steady.

Brennus spread his hands as though to indicate himself, or perhaps to draw attention to some facet of his personality. "The company that I choose to keep renders me… ah… shall we say, _unable_… to produce children."

"Company?" Phendrana repeated dimly, and Brennus nodded once but did not smile.

"Yes, Phendrana. Surely you have gathered from our private time together that I entertain somewhat unconventional, controversial tastes."

Abruptly, Phendrana was outraged. "Controversial?"

Brennus nodded lightly and helped himself to more water, calm even in the face of the doppelganger's rage. "Unfortunately not everyone upon the Shadow Council is quite as accepting of my lifestyle as you are. Several of my brothers have expressed their disdain on multiple occasions, and the Most High himself is tolerant of my choices, but not altogether supportive of them. Not that I blame any of them – this legacy that we inherit is a lofty one, and though the High Prince has eleven other sons far more deserving than I it is disheartening to him that I likely will not be furthering his bloodline."

Phendrana fixed his eyes upon the dark grains of wood in the table upon which their goblets rested and said nothing for a time, though it was apparent in the tense set of his jaw that he was still incensed. The doppelganger had not yet spent a year living his life in his true and natural form, but already he had developed a reputation for being quite deranged on account of the other residents that shared his mind. When coupled with the fact that he and Rosalles had never been far from one another, he had been judged and ridiculed by many people outside of his close circle of friends – former friends, he reminded himself sadly. To hear that his closest friend and confidante within the City of Shade had endured the same awoke within him white-hot feelings of rage that he had to struggle to sublimate.

At last he growled through gritted teeth, "I personally find you more suited to rule than many of your kin, if you will forgive me for saying so."

"I do forgive you," Brennus said softly, though whether he was touched by Phendrana's concern or lost in his own musings the doppelganger could not quite tell. "It is a shame, I think, that despite all of our advancements the City of Shade still suffers such prejudices, though I suppose it cannot be helped. The common folk adore the Twelfth Prince of Thultanthar for his kindness to all those around him and his near-constant endeavors to restore the Netherese Imperium to its former glory, but alas – " He broke off with a wry smile that did not reach his eyes before finishing begrudgingly, " – I doubt very much that those same commoners would be so accepting of the Twelfth Prince and the fact that he favors male companionship."

Before Phendrana could reply another voice wafted up from within his subconscious mind – Zerena, who had always been the most protective of his feelings. _You must address this now,_ she insisted, in that gentle yet stern voice that made her sound entirely too much like a mother fussing over her child. _Now, Phendrana… before you become even more emotionally invested in him than you already are._

Phendrana knew she was right, of course, but he had been dreading the issue to which she was referring since the conversation had begun. Briefly he considered not adhering to her advice, but then Alax was there, reaffirming all that the gloaming had said.

_Courage, Phendrana_, said the cerebrex bracingly. _Remember your integrity._

The doppelganger leaned forward a minute amount, and Brennus seemed to stiffen a fraction as though he knew what was coming; Phendrana pointedly cleared his throat in an attempt to be diplomatic, but he felt his brow furrow even as he opened his mouth to speak. "This is not a recent occurrence, then. Seeking male companionship… this is a long-lived preference of yours. This is how you choose to conduct your life, and my residing here has nothing at all to do with your choice."

He made it inescapably clear in his tone of voice that these were statements of observation, not inquiries.

Brennus's face was even, if a bit tense. "Phendrana, I – "

"Begging your pardon, Prince," Phendrana cut in. "The truth, if you please."

The Twelfth Prince shifted so that he was resting against the back of the chair in which he sat, surveying Phendrana with some indecipherable emotion blazing in his bronze eyes; for his part Phendrana did well not to blink in the face of the loremaster's intensity, knowing that to do so would be to display weakness and he would not allow that at such a crucial juncture. Brennus laced his fingers together gracefully and lay his interlocked hands upon the table, and though he was looking Phendrana in the eye when he replied the doppelganger was struck with the distinct impression that perhaps the loremaster was fighting a deep-seated sense of discomfort to retain the eye contact. "This lifestyle is not new to me, but the feelings that I experience when I am in your company are utterly foreign. I sought only physical comfort from previous liaisons of mine."

Curious contradicting sensations assailed Phendrana at this confession, and for his part he wasn't altogether certain if he was meant to feel flattered or insulted by this news. The latter of the two emotions fueled his next words, which were spoken through tightly clenched teeth. "And how many liaisons do you currently entertain, if I may be so bold as to ask?"

It was clear by the expression on the loremaster's face that this was the question he had been most hoping to avoid. For a brief moment Phendrana witnessed a flicker of anger blaze in the depths of the Twelfth Prince's eyes, the only indicator Phendrana had that suggested perhaps he was overstepping his bounds this time, but it was replaced quickly with traces of sadness and, hidden far deeper, something that may have even been self-loathing. Brennus squared his shoulders and dropped his gaze to his hands, which were now not so gracefully intertwined as they were twisted, a tribute to the turmoil he was feeling within.

"I do have one concubine," he confessed at last, but he was quick to continue so that Phendrana could not retaliate. "A Shadovar who serves as the head of household to Third Prince Lamorak's only daughter in the Lesser Court. Though I feel obligated to inform you that I have seen little of him of late, and that I have not entertained him in private company since I aided you and your former companions in the wilds against Ishka."

Phendrana's mind was keen enough to race through the time that had elapsed since then with very little effort – two fortnights at least, perhaps even closer to three – and though a small part of him was somehow pleased by that knowledge he mostly felt as though he was being toyed with. And to this day, no one had ever successfully manipulated the mindmaster Phendrana.

He wasn't really certain how he managed to conduct himself with such poise and respect, but later when he considered his departure he couldn't help being pleased with himself; he abandoned his chair a little hurriedly but not without his dignity, and bending at the waist he made sure to offer the proper obeisance due to the youngest son of Most High Telamont before he asked, "Do you currently require my assistance in your preparations for the excavation at Castle Tethyr?"

Brennus caught on right away, it seemed, but was discreet enough not to question Phendrana's sudden shift in behavior; he offered the doppelganger a sad ghost of a smile before saying, "Not in the immediate. I have business at the Shadow Mages' College shortly, and will choose the arcanists myself before I depart for the Determinist's Guild. I should have little trouble assembling the excavation crew without your help, so you are excused for now, if it pleases you."

"I am grateful," Phendrana gasped out, suddenly desperate to be gone from that place, and straightening from his bow the doppelganger moved for the door.

The Twelfth Prince's voice accosted him when his hand clutched the doorknob. "May I call on you later?"

Phendrana turned back then, and though his words were cordial enough in nature they were spoken far more coldly than he had originally intended. "I am here at your behest, Prince, and have neither the audacity nor the authority to refuse any request you might make of me. I am little more than your humble servant, am I not?"

Brennus's mouth opened at once in an attempt to refute the doppelganger's claims, but Phendrana took his leave then without another word. The moment the door snapped shut behind him Brennus reclaimed his chair heavily and promptly buried his face in his hands.


	5. One Step From Forgiveness

It wasn't until Phendrana reached the end of the main hallway that spanned the ground level of the Palace Most High that he realized he hadn't the first clue of where to go. Since he had arrived in Thultanthar to first tend to the ailing seneschal Hadrhune he had hardly spent any time on his own – only when he slept, he recalled, and on all other occasions he had whiled away the hours in the Twelfth Prince's company. This thought instilled within him a strong feeling of loneliness that was almost enough to make him retrace his steps and return to Brennus's side, but not quite. He was lingering before three hallways that intersected and led to places unknown, debating which to take and hoping he didn't wind up somewhere that was strictly off-limits to him, when a voice accosted him from the direction in which he had come.

"And what might you be doing down here?"

Phendrana glanced over his shoulder fearfully, praying for a familiar and friendly face, but his hopes were dashed when he recognized Tenth Prince Rapha rounding the corner. It occurred to the doppelganger then that perhaps he didn't have permission to be wandering around on his own at all, and so he did his best to look as though his surroundings were familiar to him as Rapha drew level with him. "I meant to leave the castle for a time, but I confess myself quite lost. I don't suppose you might point me in the direction of the foyer?"

Rapha set his hands upon his hips and surveyed Phendrana down the tip of his nose, almost as though he were regarding a loathsome insect; the doppelganger awaited his reply with no small amount of trepidation, remembering in a rush all that Brennus had confided concerning the Tenth Prince's somewhat volatile nature and wishing for all the world that he had run into anyone else. At last Rapha snickered cruelly and drawled, "And do you have the High Prince's express permission to be wandering about as you please?"

Inwardly the doppelganger cursed, but he couldn't think of anything to say in response and so he remained silent.

"I thought that might be the case." Rapha edged a step closer, and when Phendrana caught the Tenth Prince's scent he nearly rocked back in revulsion; the prince's clothes were rumpled as though he had been engaged in some sort of rigorous physical activity, and he reeked of sweat and blood. "You overstep your bounds, doppelganger. Whether you are of Cormyr or not, in my eyes you are not deserving of the many great luxuries that both the Most High and Prince Brennus have showered you with since your arrival. You would do well to display a great deal more humility toward those who are obviously set far above your lowly station."

Phendrana swallowed hard, his accelerating heartbeat pounding in his ears, and just when he was positive the prince's reprimand of him would escalate beyond a verbal scolding another voice echoed from one of the corridors behind them. "Perhaps you would do well to adopt a little more respect yourself."

They turned to regard the newcomer, and a flood of relief washed over Phendrana as he recognized the master of the Determinist's Guild, Third Prince Lamorak.

"Phendrana does not need permission to move freely about Thultanthar," Lamorak contradicted as he closed the distance and drew near to the doppelganger's side. "The services he has provided to us over the last tenday should be proof enough of that, and did the High Prince not announce to us all only this morning that he wished for Phendrana to feel welcome here, and not confined?" He paused as though waiting for a reply, and when his younger brother merely glowered at him begrudgingly Lamorak pressed, "Well? Did he not?"

"He did, brother," admitted Rapha in a bad temper, and Lamorak smiled brightly as though he took some small amount of pleasure at his brother's expense.

"Then why do you insist on badgering him? If he wishes to explore his new home, he has every right to do so." Lamorak clapped a hand down upon Phendrana's shoulder and squeezed gently once in reassurance, and he narrowed his eyes at Rapha when he finished, "Surely you have some far more lucrative pursuit to entertain than the harassment of a fellow council member, besides?"

Rapha jerked his head in a most irksome display of obeisance and snapped, "Allow me to take my leave, then," before stomping off down the hallway from which Lamorak had come; the Third Prince watched him go with no small measure of disdain in his expression before releasing Phendrana's shoulder and offering the anxious doppelganger a small smile.

"My thanks," Phendrana managed to gasp out, before adding, "Am I really allowed to come and go as I please?"

Lamorak nodded graciously. "The Most High decreed it this morning. He is most grateful for your selfless acts of protection where Prince Brennus is concerned – I fear my youngest brother was in far more dire straits than even you have realized. The phaerimm name the Netherese as their most eternally detested enemies, and have designed foul tortures that they reserve only for us. Had they caught one of the Princes of Shade at unawares, and almost completely powerless to defend himself…"

The sentence hung unfinished between them, in response to which Phendrana could only shudder delicately at the possibilities. He was about to ask Lamorak how to reach the castle foyer when he noticed that the Third Prince's eyebrows had drawn together in curiosity. "And where is Brennus? Are you not accompanying him as he prepares for the excavation of Castle Tethyr?"

Phendrana did well to hide his wince as the memories of his most recent conversation with the loremaster came back to him in an unpleasant rush. "He discharged me for the time being… He has business in the College that does not require my presence."

"Then you are truly sightseeing, then?" Lamorak clapped his hands together once delightedly. "Well then… where are you bound?"

Phendrana offered a sheepish smile, saying, "My first goal is to make my way out of the palace, and I suppose I'll decide after that what my true destination is!"

Lamorak laughed genially; Phendrana decided then that he liked him very much, though perhaps not in the same way he enjoyed Brennus's company. The thought was enough to freeze the smile on the doppelganger's face in a most unnatural fashion, but fortunately the Third Prince seemed not to notice; he lifted one arm and shook the voluminous charcoal gray sleeve back to free up his hand before pointing with one shadowy digit down the hallway to the left. "Then that is the way you should go. Take the second corridor on your left that you reach, and you will arrive presently in the grand foyer."

Phendrana bowed gratefully. "I am in your debt! Thank you for your kindness."

The master of the Determinist's Guild nodded once and bade him farewell, and the doppelganger wasted no time in hurrying down the hallway. Fortunately he encountered no other obstacles on his way to the grand foyer, and as per Lamorak's instructions he soon found himself stepping through the great front doors and out into the Upper District of Thultanthar.

_Where will you go, do you suppose, now that you are free to wander about as you please? _asked Ristel, his normally sardonic voice colored with obvious intrigue, and Phendrana thought he understood why.

It wasn't just that Thultanthar, the very last of the floating enclaves that had once been the cornerstones of the fabled Netherese Imperium, was unique and grandiose in its construction – it was that the City of Shade was, quite possibly, the most breathtaking establishment that Phendrana had ever laid eyes upon. He hadn't considered everything he would be gaining when he made the impulsive choice to ally himself with High Prince Telamont because he had been so absorbed with melancholy thoughts of all that he was leaving behind, and even now Rosalles, Aidan, Ivy, and Aust were never very far from his mind. In the grand scheme of things very little time had elapsed since he had made his decision to remain within Thultanthar, but he was beginning to feel as though he was coming to terms with all of the changes that would very soon be coming his way; that being said, it was really the first time he gazed down upon the artfully sprawling Shade Enclave with the dawning realization that everything his eyes alighted upon was part of his home now.

Directly below the Palace Most High, constructed upon an upper shelf in a place of reverence, was the Circle, though at present it didn't appear quite as extravagant as it had in the days before the phaerimm had unleashed their wrath upon everything in sight; dozens of Shadovar slaves were hard at work repairing all of the damage that had been wrecked upon the homes of the Shadow Council members, and it seemed to Phendrana that perhaps half of these private villas had been fully repaired already. Situated beneath the Circle was the Upper District, which, as Phendrana had come to understand recently, was where the illegitimate sons and daughters of the Princes of Shade had chosen to reside; their private abodes were grand, certainly, but less so than the residents of the Circle in both size and beauty. There were four other landmarks of obvious importance that were majestic enough to ensnare even a carelessly wandering eye, places that Phendrana had heard of many times since his arrival but hadn't yet visited – the Shadow Mages' College, the Hall of the Arts Martial, the Determinist's Guild, and the High Church of Shar. Though his knowledge of these places was limited at best, he did know a few things: for example, he knew that Second Prince Rivalen presided over the Church as High Priest, and that through his near-constant divinations with the goddess Shar he had eventually succeeded in leading the city of Thultanthar out of the Plane of Shadow after its grueling seventeen century sojourn to that mysterious dimension. He also knew that Fifth Prince Clariburnus was charged with the day-to-day activities that occurred within the Hall of the Arts Martial, and that every prospective member of the Army of Shade received personal training at the prince's hand – as the High Prince's self-appointed commander, Clariburnus was the undisputed leader of Thultanthar's armed forces. Phendrana knew from his brief visit to the Determinist's Guild that Third Prince Lamorak took it upon himself to oversee the aptitude testing of each individual Shadovar when they came of age, and that it was the results of these exams that concluded which Shadovar were most deserving of becoming shades. He couldn't quite recall at what age the Determining took place, and found himself wondering offhandedly just what that might be. He knew little of the Shadow Mages' College, save that it was the largest of the four landmarks that defined the Upper District and housed the most eclectic and diverse groups of all; Phendrana remembered that Mattick, Vattick, Dethud, and Brennus were all senior arcanists at the College, and that each of them taught classes and lectures to prospective spellcasters specializing in the intricate but sinister art of shadow magic. Dethud was the Shadow Council's only necromancer, and though his pupils were few and far between he did offer instruction in that school of magic to anyone with the aptitude for it; Mattick was the leading authority on alchemy, whereas his younger twin Vattick was the most reputable illusionist residing within the enclave. Brennus shared his mastery of the Shadow Weave, his deep-seated fascination with Netherese history, and his unorthodox but occasionally useful love for archaeology with a wide variety of budding arcanists. Phendrana had also heard that Hadrhune, widely regarded as High Shadow Sorcerer to High Prince Telamont, occasionally offered up his knowledge of the Art to a select few of the College's most promising young arcanists, but it was a rare occurrence indeed.

He swept his gaze over Villa Tareia and felt another rush of guilt when he recognized the addition the construction crew was adding on to the Twelfth Prince's abode especially for him; the living quarters were spacious indeed, and the attached library was roomy and attached to the dome-shaped observatory with an outdoor spiral staircase. It was yet another luxury he felt he simply didn't deserve, and the knowledge that Brennus was bestowing his favor upon Phendrana based on his amorous feelings stirred up yet another wave of anger in the doppelganger, replaced almost at once by a sense of anger at himself. Had he not invited the loremaster in with his own actions? Had he not reciprocated those feelings of desire?

_Before you knew just how he conducted his personal life,_ Zerena reminded sympathetically, and Phendrana made certain that the gloaming felt the resulting wash of gratitude he experienced at her kind words. _There is nothing wrong with the way that you feel, dear Phendrana, and you have handled this scenario splendidly._

"Be that as it may," the doppelganger responded in an undertone, "I am already second-guessing my decision to depart his company, however temporary the reprieve may be."

_But why?_ Zerena's puzzlement was apparent, the strongest emotion any of the six detached psyches residing within the confines of his subconscious had yet to convey.

Phendrana sighed and allowed himself to lament his predicament, but only briefly. "Because he is all that I have. Where can I go? Who can I seek out to confide in? I do not even have the means to leave the city… though I confess, I haven't the desire to do so." The psychological wounds that had resulted from his leaving Rosalles and the others behind, undoubtedly for good, still throbbed painfully somewhere deep within Phendrana's being, so much so that the mere prospect of standing in their presence made him feel suddenly ill.

The others murmured intently amongst themselves for a moment, in voices so low and hurried that the doppelganger could only pick out choice words no matter how he concentrated on them, until Kiora at last spoke up proudly. _We think perhaps we know where you could go, since you are keen in confiding in someone who knows Prince Brennus better than we._

The doppelganger wondered at their words, at a loss as to whom they could be referring, until Kiora passed along to him the memory of words the loremaster himself had spoken the day before: _"…try to keep in mind that you are not without physical beings who are willing to lend you an ear as often as you may need. Soleil is particularly sympathetic when it comes to your cause…_"

For the first time since he had left Brennus's company, Phendrana dared to feel slightly optimistic as he glanced in the direction of Soleil Chemaut's private residence, the place he had never visited but knew as Villa Cloveri. There were no construction workers swarming over the lovely structure, which appeared to be as good as new in its sprawling yet modest architecture; he wondered if the mountebank would be home if he called upon her, or if she would answer his summons at all.

_It never hurts to try,_ Xanther prodded. _Did the prince not insist that Soleil favors your cause?_

"Let us not place too much stock by the prince's words," Phendrana warned, though he couldn't see the harm in venturing forth now that he knew he was at liberty to come and go as he pleased; squaring his shoulders he took his first step down the wide black marble staircase that descended from the Palace Most High and into the spacious pavilion known as the Circle, his eyes wide as he took in everything around him, unable to keep himself from feeling positively awed.

The pathway that wound through the Circle was constructed of slightly-rounded, faintly luminous black cobblestones that would aid any non-shade making his way throughout the Upper District; the minutely-violet hue washed gently over Phendrana's supple boots in a way that made it difficult for him to pry his gaze away from his every footfall, so fascinated was he by the light. The pathway from the palace steps branched to the left and to the right when it reached the proximity of the Circle, with Villa Dusari on the right and Villa Sharesthra on the left; the former, First Prince Escanor's manor, was the grandest establishment in the Circle and would remain so even after the additions to Villa Tareia. The latter, Second Prince's Rivalen's home, had constructed in a place of honor and reverence in its compound a lovely and extravagant statue of the goddess Shar out of polished black marble, to which passerby often prostrated themselves as they begged for their chosen deity's blessing and favor. At the other end of the circular-shaped pavilion were situated two other houses, the least grand of all but no less awe-inspiring than the others: Villa Cambria, the house of the seneschal Hadrhune, and Villa Cloveri; Phendrana only knew which one belonged to Soleil because he knew her private residence was built beside Brennus's. It was with a measure of uncertainty and trepidation that he approached the great double doors of Soleil's home, his mind racing through the many avenues the encounter could take. Would she agree to see him? If she did, and he confided in her everything that he had come to fear, would she shun him?

_Courage, Phendrana,_ said Alax for the second time that day. _It does not do to doubt yourself so often._

The doppelganger accepted that wisdom and nodded once, though of course the cerebrex hadn't spoken aloud, and clenching his hand into a fist to keep it from shaking he knocked upon one of the doors as loudly as he dared. The door must have been at least partially soundproof, he considered briefly, because he couldn't hear a single sound from the other side, but after only a slight pause the right-side door was thrown open wide enough to admit a pale waif of a woman who could only be Soleil's head of housekeeping. Her skin was of a very light shade with just the barest trace of gray to it, which Phendrana knew from his travels and various studies he had conducted over the years was a trait inherent of the Shadovar; her hair was dark and framed her gaunt face in a curtain, and her eyes appeared slightly sunken. She had the look of a corpse, Phendrana admitted privately to himself, though being employed by masters of such high import he would have been more shocked to find her in perfect health.

"Who," she snapped, with the voice of a wizened old crone, "are you?"

Phendrana rocked back a step at the rude manner of her greeting, though if he was prepared to be truly honest with himself he supposed he shouldn't be surprised at being received this way. How many times a day were members of the Circle called upon by those they deemed undeserving of a private audience? How rare were the opportunities when such audiences were actually granted? It was unlikely that he would be recognized by the almost royal-like robes he wore, which he had received only that morning – though by now that seemed like a lifetime ago – and as he had not made any public appearances since his arrival and hadn't yet been introduced to the populace as a member of the Circle there was next to no chance he would be allowed to enter even if he pled his case. Still, he deigned to give it his best effort. "I am Phendrana, once of Cormyr and now of Thultanthar, soon to be the Mind of the Most High. I have come to speak with Soleil, if she is available."

It startled him just how easily this introduction rolled off his tongue, as though he had been born to claim that title. The head housekeeper, unfortunately, did not seem to be at all impressed by his words; she crossed her withered arms over her chest and narrowed her eyes at him, and though he towered over her by perhaps two feet he couldn't remember a time he had ever felt so small himself. "Well, Phendrana, have you any credentials? Some decree from the High Prince confirming your identity?"

_Seven people residing within perhaps the most brilliant mind ever to walk these lands, and not one of us foresaw such a complication? _Ristel asked with a hint of disdain, and then he, Alax, and Vadania had all dissolved into uproarious gales of laughter; Phendrana shook his head once vigorously in an attempt to concentrate on the matter at hand, grateful for the moment when Zerena shushed the riotous trio until his subconscious was again silent.

"I am sorry to say that I don't," he answered truthfully with a sigh, "and I don't suppose you would take me at my word when I say that, on my honor as a prospective member of your grand society, all that I have said here is true?"

The housekeeper shook her head once adamantly. "Look, honey – since Lady Chemaut's betrothal to First Prince Escanor, common rabble have been banging down this door in their pitiful attempts to gawk at our future princess. If I was fool enough to admit every vagabond that found his way to this door, we'd be in a sorry state, now wouldn't we?"

"I suppose that is a fair enough assessment, and logic that I can't rightfully argue." Phendrana bent slightly at the waist, for it seemed there was little point in protesting any further; he meant to leave those as his parting words, but through the open door he heard some sort of commotion upstairs that gave him pause.

"Did he say _Phendrana?!_ Loyella, you old witch! Let him in!"

The corners of Phendrana's mouth twitched upward briefly; he thought he recognized Soleil's voice.

"Milady, please keep still. This is a very delicate fabric."

"Oh, for the love of Shar… Prince, I don't suppose you would…?"

"It would be my pleasure." And barely a half second later the head housekeeper's own shadow grew a hint darker before solidifying into the figure of Fifth Prince Clariburnus, who offered Phendrana a quick grin before turning to poor Loyella. "Madam."

The dilapidated housekeeper all but cowered at the feet of the towering shade, who stood at least a head over Phendrana. "Your Majesty."

"Madam, this is Phendrana, once of Cormyr and now of Thultanthar, soon to be the Mind of the Most High." Clariburnus spared a wink for Phendrana, and the doppelganger worked hard not to chuckle. "He is the newest inductee into the Shadow Council, and before the turn of the year he will be a shade serving upon the Circle. Just yesterday the High Prince himself named Phendrana a hero of Thultanthar for his valorous preservation of the life of Twelfth Prince Brennus." At these words the doppelganger inwardly cursed – was there nowhere he could go to get a moment's peace from simply hearing the loremaster's name in idle conversation? "He is as welcome here as any of the Most High's sons, do you understand?"

"I do, Prince, I do." The housekeeper called Loyella hastened to address Phendrana then, and when she spoke the doppelganger was certain her hair was a little grayer now than it had been before! "Please forgive my rudeness, sir."

Phendrana smiled down at the harassed housekeeper, saying, "Nonsense. You work only for the benefit of the Tanthul family… In that respect, you and I are one in the same." She bowed him through the door then with many murmured words of thanks and praise, and the doppelganger took solace in the tiny smile his words brought to her face.

Halfway up the staircase Clariburnus turned to him and clapped him appreciatively on the back, saying, "Your kindness has not been exaggerated; it will be good to have your voice upon the council for yet another reason, it seems! Several of my kin lack what you have been given in abundance."

"As I bore witness to myself on the way here," Phendrana remembered suddenly, and as Clariburnus led him through the halls of Villa Cloveri the doppelganger retold the story of his encounter with the ill-mannered Tenth Prince Rapha and of Third Prince Lamorak's interference on his behalf. Outside the door that undoubtedly led to Soleil's private chambers Clariburnus clucked his tongue once in disapproval and shook his head in solemn disbelief.

"Rapha is a vicious little brute," the Fifth Prince confessed, and it was clear by his tone of voice that there was no love lost between the two brothers. "I trained him myself after his Determining, when he came to the Hall of the Arts Martial; he fights like a man possessed, and believe me when I say that few men in all the enclave could best him in single combat, but he has set himself above all others over the years – save the Most High, of course. In fact – "

"Why are you whispering amongst yourselves in the hallway?!" cried Soleil in a long-suffering voice from the other side of the door. "Spare me this travesty and at least share your words with me!"

Phendrana cocked his head slightly to one side. "Is something the matter?"

Clariburnus chuckled softly to himself, the tips of his ceremonial fangs just barely visible when he did so. "You would think there was a problem, wouldn't you, the way she has been carrying on… She is… Well, perhaps I will let you see for yourself." He pressed his hand against the door – it was standing ever so slightly ajar – and eased it open, and the pair of them admitted themselves.

Soleil was standing upon a slightly-raised platform in the center of the room with her lustrous sheet of dark hair pinned messily to the base of her neck and wearing the most exquisite gown that Phendrana had ever laid eyes upon. It was a vibrant shade of purple, the same hue that many of the Princes of Shade had inlaid into their battle raiment, and complimented Soleil's delicate alabaster complexion in a most lovely way. It was a strapless gown with a sweetheart neckline, a dropped waist that accentuated the slight womanly curves that her warrior's garb usually disguised, and a full tulle skirt complete with a long and flowing train. The bodice was encrusted with priceless crystals, as was the hem of her beautiful skirt, and with every minute movement she made the gown glittered in the pale light of the candles that illuminated the room; perhaps the only thing she wore that was more magnificent was the dazzling engagement ring upon her slender finger, a band of diamonds surrounding a stunning princess-cut sapphire whose color was as deep as the depths of the ocean.

Phendrana was momentarily speechless as he gazed upon her, the woman who had been born little more than a commoner yet was still more fit to be a noble than anyone he had ever met. When at last he had recovered his voice he gasped out, "Can this be your wedding gown?! Why, you will give your fiancé a heart attack at the first sight of you! I do not know what to say. Surely you are an angel living here among demons."

"Of that, there can be no doubt!" Clariburnus joked, and nudging the doppelganger playfully in the ribs they laughed companionably together. Soleil chuckled along but was presently reprimanded by one of her ladies-in-waiting, for the three women clustered around her were meticulously pinning her great skirt and tittered their disapproval every time she so much as shifted her weight.

"Have I come at a bad time?" Phendrana asked timidly, and Soleil reached for his hand and gave it an almost desperate squeeze.

"Oh, please stay!" she exclaimed, and Clariburnus laughed again at her expense until she silenced him with a glare. "This is a most tedious process – I will be grateful for your company. Prince Clariburnus has done nothing but poke fun at me since he arrived."

Phendrana cocked an eyebrow at the smug-looking Fifth Prince, asking, "But why are you here?"

Clariburnus puffed out his chest with pride. "Since the High Prince has no daughters, and we have no traditions in place for such a grand occasion, we have had to improvise a great deal as far as the wedding ceremony is concerned; this task is made even more difficult by virtue of the fact that Soleil has no family here within the enclave, and thus no one to present her to my brother when they wed. So the Most High has decreed that the princess-to-be shall be given away by the Tanthul family member of her choosing, and the lady has graciously granted me that honor. She thought it might be best if I saw her in the gown, so that I might better select attire that compliments hers."

"An honor indeed!" agreed the mindmaster. "Be assured that none in attendance will be able to pry their eyes away from you."

Through the slightly-open curtains that led to Villa Cloveri's upstairs balcony they heard the sound of the bell ringing from the steeple of the High Church of Shar, signaling the start of the evening worship service; Clariburnus moved through the room and passed through the curtains to stand at the railing of the balcony, gazing up at the thinnest curtains of shadow through which the harsh daylight was beginning to fade. Soleil nodded her head in the direction of one of the chairs set around the dining table, which was not currently set as it was not yet time for the housekeeping staff to present the evening meal, and with a smile of gratitude Phendrana drew out one of the chairs and took a seat facing her. They lapsed into companionable silence for a minute or two as Soleil's ladies in waiting busied themselves about making the necessary alterations to her magnificent skirt, until Phendrana came forward in his chair as he remembered that he hadn't quite finished the story he had been telling.

"I was just telling Prince Clariburnus that I inadvertently ran afoul of Prince Rapha not long ago," he confided a little darkly, and Soleil rolled her eyes knowingly as Clariburnus re-entered the room to listen.

"I cannot say that I am surprised," the mountebank admitted, smoothing her hands carefully down the bodice of her gown and admiring the dozens of shimmering gemstones beneath her fingertips. "For what reason did he think he had any right to harass you?"

Phendrana relayed the tale for the second time, taking comfort in the way that Soleil scoffed in a most disgusted manner in response to Rapha's blatant arrogance and Clariburnus simply crossed his arms adamantly and said nothing in his younger brother's defense, and when he had concluded the story Soleil set her hands upon the dropped waist of her gown with no small amount of anger in her eyes. "I wish I could say that he will warm up to you in time, but that would be misleading. He holds little love for anyone who is not of the Tanthul family – even Hadrhune, who shares many of Prince Rapha's opinions and ideals, has never truly gained his favor simply because he is not of Netheril. I am sad to be the one to tell you, friend, but I am afraid that you will be hard pressed to gain the approval of all no matter how hard you try."

"Though I wouldn't lose much sleep over Rapha if I were you," Clariburnus put in. "He is not what I would call a positive role model."

The doppelganger opened his mouth to express his appreciation for their opinions, but it was at that moment that Soleil uttered a pitiable sound that was more akin to a whine than anything else and said, "Really, Timena, how much longer must I stay here? I must prepare myself for tomorrow! You do know what occasion tomorrow brings, don't you?"

The mountebank's primary lady in waiting, a young Shadovar with jet black eyes and elegant high cheekbones called Timena, chuckled beneath her breath as she jabbed another pin into place and sat back on her heels. "Yes, milady, I know what tomorrow is, but are you not more concerned with looking your best for your wedding? That day is not so far away as it may seem! Surely the Doubles Combat is not your primary concern?"

"I do believe you are greatly belittling the importance of the Doubles Combat, my dear Timena," said Fifth Prince Clariburnus, his silver eyes glimmering with something that appeared to be barely-contained anticipation. "The chance to test one's skills against the mightiest warriors and spellcasters in Thultanthar? Bragging rights upon the Shadow Council for the next three lunar cycles? The favor of the Most High, which is the single most coveted thing that all in the City of Shade yearn for?"

"Of course, Prince," tittered Timena with a girlish giggle that made Clariburnus's eyes shimmer huskily. "Forgive me for undermining the importance of such a grand competition."

"You are participating, Phendrana, are you not?" Soleil gushed, clapping her hands together once jovially. "We expressed our concern this afternoon that we seem to have odd numbers this time, and so the Most High agreed to allow Archmistress Arthien to participate – though with some reluctance, I must admit."

Phendrana opened and closed his mouth several times, looking very much like a fish out of water, and allowed his puzzled expression to serve as his response. Clariburnus and Soleil exchanged a glance, perfectly flabbergasted by the doppelganger's lack of understanding, until the Fifth Prince asked, "Surely you have been told about the Doubles Combat?"

"Sorry," said Phendrana sheepishly. "No."

Only a very brief pause followed this revelation, and then Soleil had recovered herself enough to be firm with her ladies. "That's enough for today, if you please. Do remember that I will be indisposed for the duration of the day tomorrow – we can finish the rest of the alterations the day after. Thank you for your time, ladies."

"Will you require assistance with your gown, milady?" asked Timena humbly, and Soleil nodded once as she stepped off the small circular platform and gathered her tulle skirt in both hands to avoid stepping on the train. They vanished behind the screen in the corner of the room, where there issued the sound of fabric rustling as the mountebank climbed out of her wedding gown, and a short time later she rejoined them clad in her battle raiment; she hurriedly belted her enchanted falchion upon her hip as Timena worked to fasten the clasps of the mountebank's breastplate.

"Will you take him, then?" asked Clariburnus. "I have business elsewhere."

Soleil beckoned to the doppelganger then, and though he hadn't the first clue what was happening Phendrana was quick to abandon his chair and hasten to her side; as Clariburnus was melting into his own shadow, bound for some unknown location, Soleil left her instructions for Timena. "Delay the meal, if you please, and set it for two… Doubtless Phendrana will have questions for me when we return." The mountebank smiled warmly at him then as she asked, "Where are my manners? Were you planning to dine elsewhere, Phendrana, or would you grant me the pleasure of your company this evening?"

"Absolutely," the doppelganger acquiesced, happy to find himself with a companion for the next few hours. "But where - ?"

"Soon!" Soleil derailed him with a laugh. "It is better if I show you." And seizing his hand she ran her thumb over the enchanted sapphires set into the jet band she wore upon her index finger and they spirited away from Villa Cloveri. The journey through whatever plane of existence they happened to be passing through was more than a little uncomfortable for Phendrana, who had yet to become fully acclimated to the sinister confines of the Plane of Shadow and now found himself hardly present anywhere at all as they traveled; he was uncertain if his body was still in one piece, for he no longer had the sense that he had a body at all… Were his eyes open? Was he breathing? All he was truly aware of was the distinct pressure of Soleil's fingers clenched around his, and it was that singular gesture that somehow kept him rooted to himself. The moment of delirium was short lived, thankfully, and when he became aware of his surroundings again he found that they were standing in another place entirely.

The floor was a glossy black marble, but the rest of the cavernous space he now occupied was more akin to a massive subterranean chamber than anything else. Stalagmites protruded from the floor, and though these structures seemed highly unnatural there was no denying how lifelike the pointed stones appeared; he ran his hand curiously over the nearest stone in awe, his eyes raking over everything he could see. If there was a ceiling it was so high up that it simply wasn't visible; a thin veil of gray mist hung about the place, partially obscuring any prying eyes as they gazed upward. There were walkways of roughly-hewn stone leading to another level of walkways fifty feet above his head, and a narrower, less sturdy-looking network of intersecting pathways above those that were built almost level with the mist. Some of these stone pathways were built around the larger stalagmites and still others were suspended with magical means; some even hovered and occasionally changed altitude, though how these had been constructed to do so Phendrana could only guess. A series of tunnels branched off from the main chamber, some sloping upward and others plunging downward, some faintly lit with torchlight and still others as black as the inside of a tomb; he wasn't certain what the purpose of such a facility could be, but to him it felt like a rather old battlefield.

He trod reverently forward a few steps, his boots soundless upon the smooth black marble, and when he spoke his voice was stricken with awe. "What is this place?"

Soleil stood a few paces behind him, surveying the chamber with an expression of intimate familiarity with her arms crossed over her chest. "This is the inner sanctum of the Hall of the Arts Martial, which the High Prince commissioned several hundred years ago for the Princes of Shade to use for a competition that has come to be named the Doubles Combat. To get right to the point… the Doubles Combat is a fighting competition, in which the Princes of Shade battle one another for supremacy."

Phendrana turned back in surprise, his mouth slightly agape. He had seen on numerous occasions what the Princes of Shade were capable of and privately admitted to being quite terrified of more than one of the High Prince's progeny; the prospect of them voluntarily coming to blows was almost unthinkable. "They… fight… each other? But why?"

The mountebank smirked as she approached him; it was apparent in her expression that she had expected such a reaction from him. "The Princes of Shade are long lived, Phendrana, with abilities both inborn and inherited through their ascension that set them high above most mortal beings. Very rarely are they hard pressed to put down any opposition, and on most occasions they are able to settle any conflict that comes their way using barely a fraction of their strength. They are also mostly confined to Thultanthar, which, while grander than perhaps any city that the World Below has to offer, must seem like a prison to such exalted beings from time to time. Most importantly of all, though, the Princes of Shade are all very opinionated and vie almost daily amongst themselves for the chance to make their views heard above the voices of all others, as well as the opportunity to earn the favor of the Most High. And so over time the Combat was born, with the aim being to assuage the princes for a time in their constant bids for greatness."

Phendrana was struck with the curious sensation that perhaps he had never seen any of Telamont's sons exercise the full extent of their power before – the notion was both thrilling and a little unsettling. He took in his surroundings once more before turning his attention fully upon the woman standing beside him. "How does the Combat work?"

"The proceedings are simple enough – we meet here once every three lunar cycles and pair off, and then the fighting begins. The selection begins with First Prince Escanor, who has seniority among us when the Most High is not present, and continues on down the line with the next in succession who hasn't yet been assigned a partner, until all of us are paired together. Your partner is the only one on whom you can rely for the duration of the battle – the others will attack you on sight." Soleil offered him a grim sort of smile, finishing, "The Combat progresses until one pair – or a single combatant, as is often the case – is left standing."

"And..." Phendrana swallowed hard past the ever-growing lump of anxiety that was rising in his throat. "…How is the… victor… decided?"

Soleil's voice was solemn when she said, "A combatant is considered ineligible to continue the fight when he yields to an opponent, or is otherwise rendered incapacitated." A sardonic little grin twisted the corners of her mouth when she added, "As per the Most High's instructions we are forbidden to kill one another lest we meet a similar fate."

A thrill of trepidation raced down the doppelganger's spine at these words and he involuntarily wound his arms around himself, though his shudder had nothing at all to do with any sort of chill. Soleil moved a little closer and clapped one of her hands down upon his shoulder bracingly, and they stood together in a companionable sort of silence while Phendrana absorbed all that he had learned. Slowly it dawned on him that he was expected to participate in this barbaric tradition, and anticipation turned suddenly to dread when he realized that he could very well be pitted against Brennus. Soleil seemed to guess the reason for his drastic change in pallor, for she murmured quietly, "In this, the Princes of Shade truly are merciless. You must be prepared to strike down those you may care for, or find yourself on the receiving end of their ruthlessness."

There was a touch of bitterness to her tone of voice that prompted Phendrana to ask, "Have you found that out the hard way in the past?"

Soleil nodded begrudgingly. "Just last lunar cycle I was paired with Prince Clariburnus, and we cornered Prince Escanor in one of the hallways… he struck Clariburnus down, and I surrendered the upper hand on account of my feelings for him. He was a little more… forthcoming, shall we say… with his stroke."

_Just when you start to think you understand the inner workings of the Netherese..._ Kiora let her sentence trail off unfinished, and Phendrana found that he readily agreed with the sentiment.

"He defeated you?" Phendrana asked, surprise coloring his tone, and the wry little smirk returned to the mountebank's lips.

"As I said before, the Combat calls for a level of brutality that you must dig deep within yourself to find," Soleil confided. "There are few things within Thultanthar that the Princes of Shade take so seriously. Each of them is strong in his own right, and their allegiances and grudges form and diminish more swiftly than you can imagine, but this is the one occasion where each of them is prepared to lay all differences aside and strive to answer a question that is far older than either you or I: which of them is the mightiest of all. You and I may be friends now, but tomorrow may very well find me at the mercy of your blade, or worse – at the mercy of your deadly mind. All I can say is that if you do not find the courage within yourself to put me down, you may find yourself at the receiving end of my sword instead. The same goes for everyone else – there is no room for compassion in this competition, I'm afraid."

It was a difficult concept to wrap his mind around, but Phendrana supposed he would come to terms with it eventually; he stepped out from beneath the mountebank's reassuring hand and ventured forth into the cavern, working to empty his mind of any debilitating thoughts as he focused on committing all that he could to memory. For her part Soleil remained silent, watching the doppelganger about his work and privately admiring his unerring focus. Only when she felt the Most High's all-knowing presence probing the chamber, wordlessly imparting with his presence his desire for the two of them to depart, did she interrupt Phendrana's musings.

"We would do well to be gone from this place," Soleil called out to him, for the doppelganger had moved quite far away by then and was just beginning to investigate the entrance of one of the darkest corridors. "We are not permitted to be here any longer – on several occasions the Princes of Shade have attempted to sabotage their adversaries by setting magical traps and the like on the eve of the Combat… The High Prince has forbidden such practices, and prefers that the inner sanctum remain undisturbed until the event begins."

It seemed a feasible enough request to Phendrana, who had heard tell of the Princes of Shade purposely thwarting one another's pursuits on numerous occasions; he hastened to the mountebank's side, suddenly anxious to leave the inner sanctum, and when she politely put out her hand for him he took it and allowed her to drag him into the curious non-existent space created by the powerful enchantments bound in her ring. The journey back to Villa Cloveri was just as uncomfortable and disorienting as the journey to the Hall of the Arts Martial, and when they had arrived safely back in Soleil's private quarters Phendrana vowed never again to travel with her if he could help it.

Timena was just laying out the last dish of the evening meal on the table for them when they moved through the curtains and off the balcony, and she bowed politely to both of them before exiting without a word. Soleil unbuckled both her breastplate and the belt upon which her falchion was sheathed before depositing both items upon the foot of her bed, and then she was ushering Phendrana toward the spread of delicious looking food much like a mother fussing over her child – to Phendrana, who often wondered if he would ever really fit in among the Princes of Shade, her behavior was nothing less than endearing. With his mouth half full of steamed zucchini he asked his first question. "I shouldn't expect to be selected early on, should I?"

Soleil chewed thoughtfully on a mouthful of tender venison, her unusual yellow eyes fixed contemplatively upon the miniature chandelier fixture that gave the room light; when she spoke the words came slowly, as though she was considering each one very carefully. "It's difficult to determine… The Combat seems to go through trends in that regard. Occasionally I find myself being chosen first, mostly on account of my empathetic link and the obvious tactical edge it gives me and my partner, but other times I am passed over and given little or no consideration. Your talents are quite unique; you are a master of both of your blades, I am told, and your mind is keener than anyone else's, and capable of far more than any of us could comprehend. Not to mention that there are no less than six other presences taking residence in your mind, each with a skill set that is more diverse than the next! I may be wrong, but in my opinion I believe it is likely that you will be something of a commodity in tomorrow's Combat. You have much to offer."

Though he was flattered by her words, Phendrana didn't allow himself to feel too optimistic about anything she had said. The fact remained that he was not of pure Netherese descent, and he was learning very quickly just how much a person's bloodline could work against him. He doubted very much that anyone would take him into consideration… Well, he corrected himself, perhaps Twelfth Prince Brennus might, but his interest likely would have little to do with Phendrana's prowess in battle –

And just like that, Phendrana recalled why he had come to Villa Cloveri in the first place, and segued into that part of the conversation in a most unceremonious way: "Oh!"

Soleil crooked one thin black eyebrow. "Is something wrong?"

Phendrana opened his mouth to confide in her every single one of his doubts and fears, but a singular thought gave him pause: was Soleil not also friends with Brennus? Might the obligations she felt to serve the Tanthul family to the best of her ability lead her to relay every word he spoke right back to the loremaster? What then would happen to Phendrana, if his closest confidante and perhaps his only real supporter within the Shadow Council viciously turned on him, decided not to trust him, rescinded his affections before either of them had even begun to identify the way they truly felt? Not for the first time that day the mindmaster was assailed by a strong sense of loneliness – it was unprecedented just how isolated one person could feel even when constantly surrounded by others.

With all of these thoughts in mind, Phendrana felt keenly the moment when all of the resolve he had built up for this occasion dissolved as surely as it had formed. He shrank back against his chair and lowered his head in a most submissive fashion, muttering, "Forgive me. It isn't my place. This is a matter of no small importance, and we barely know one another."

He was certain she would let the topic drop without questioning him any further, but she surprised him then by leaning forward and slipping her hand into his; glancing up Phendrana was more than a little surprised to see that she wore a warm and genuine smile, and that her eyes were just as sincere. Of all the things he had been expecting her to say, he was ill prepared for what she actually said. "Phendrana, when you are here with me you are not in the presence of the Princes of Shade – you are in the presence of someone who, like you, does not really belong here. I know the emotions you cling to, for they are often mine – you doubt yourself, and your usefulness to these higher powers that seem to be completely out of your reach or influence. You feel a strong melancholy for the life that you left behind, for even though it was not the great calling for which you were meant it was safe, and convenient, and comfortable to you. You are lonely here, because there is no one quite like you. But that is where you are wrong! For I am here. You have me. And not only can I vow that whatever words you speak here will reach no one's ears but my own – unless of course you are plotting some manner of treason against Thultanthar, that is! - , but I can assure you that I suspect I already know what it is that so concerns you."

Phendrana cleared his suddenly too-dry throat several times before he attempted to answer, but even then he still sounded as though he had swallowed dust when he spoke. "Do you?"

Soleil nodded and squeezed his hand; her fingers and smile were both warm, and as radiant as the sun. "Yes. You are here about Prince Brennus, are you not?"

"How… How did you…" Try as he might, Phendrana couldn't form a cohesive sentence.

The mountebank erred on the side of discretion and pitched her voice a little lower. "Brennus has somewhat of a reputation for entertaining male companionship in his private life – not publicly, of course, but it is common knowledge within the Shadow Council. But it is more than just that - it is plain to see when you are together, Phendrana. You spend all of your time together. You gravitate to one another without thinking. He works to elevate you to positions of grandeur for reasons more personal than because you are an asset to the High Prince, and you risk your life for him without even a thought for the consequences." She broke off with a roguish wink before adding, "I do not believe that the Princes of Shade suspect you of being enamored with one another, but I am privy to the truth whether you approve of my intrusions or not."

"I don't understand," Phendrana protested, exasperated, and Soleil laughed out loud as she released his hand and tapped her own temple once with her index finger.

"Have you forgotten my empathetic link to every member of the Tanthul family?" she asked indulgently, and sitting back she took up her goblet of water and took a swig. "It doesn't just alert me to any physical danger threatening them – often I find myself privy to many of their strongest emotions that I would instead prefer not to be! It functions much like your powers of the mind, I imagine. Don't you find yourself intruding on the thoughts of those in close proximity to you, even when you aren't actively trying to do so?"

She had a point there, Phendrana supposed, and so he nodded in earnest.

"So it is with my link. I have seen the truth of Brennus's emotions for myself, try as he might to hide them, and I can tell you the feelings that you have instilled within him – confusion, anxiety, over protectiveness, lust, but most importantly of all, compassion. " Soleil smiled, looking a little smugger, but the doppelganger was nowhere near finished with his vocalizations.

"I fear that your empathetic link does not encompass all of the complications that have been brought to light today," Phendrana admitted, the food on his plate all but forgotten as he twisted his hands nervously in his lap. "I'm afraid I don't even know where to begin explaining the entirety of these fears to you…"

"It seems you have also forgotten that I, too, am romantically involved with one of the Princes of Shade," Soleil countered immediately, "and that I likely endured all that you are going through now." In response to the dubious expression Phendrana leveled her way the mountebank crossed her arms across her chest and tilted her chair back until it was perfectly and precariously balanced on its two back legs, saying loftily, "Very well! You so doubt my claims… ask me anything! I guarantee that it is within my power to assuage your fears using my own personal experiences."

Phendrana's stomach lurched rather unpleasantly as he recalled the chain of events that had resulted from the first time he had been told to ask anything earlier that day, and hoped with all his heart that he wasn't about to commit yet another social faux pas. Such were the depths of his fears, though, and so desperate was his need to connect with someone that he found the words rolling off his tongue before he had really considered them. "Were you made to deal with a concubine of Prince Escanor's, then?"

"No," Soleil answered flatly, and Phendrana open his mouth in victorious exclamation but was completely derailed by her next words. "I was made to deal with three."

The doppelganger's blood ran cold in his veins. "Wha… _Three_?!"

"Yes, three." Soleil leaned forward, and her chair came to rest upon the carpet with a soft _thunk_; she looked remarkably calm, Phendrana thought, for someone who had just confessed to vying against three other women for the affections of the First Prince of the City of Shade. "Why are you so surprised?"

Phendrana's exasperation got the better of him then and he threw his hands up in the air, almost shouting when he asked, "Why are you _not_ surprised?! Why am I the only one within your entire _city_ who seems to think that fidelity is something to be _valued_, not overlooked completely?!"

Soleil opened her mouth to offer a very calm and patient reply, but they were interrupted when the shadow of Phendrana's chair began to solidify; a moment later Fifth Prince Clariburnus stepped out of the thickened shadow and materialized fully in their presence, and he fixed Phendrana with a curious expression before laughing out loud.

"I could hear you shouting all the way from the Shadow Realm," Telamont's warrior son confessed with a chuckle. "What has happened in my absence that troubles you so?"

The doppelganger hastened to reply, but Soleil was the faster; her explanation was enough to make his insides wither with embarrassment. "I do believe that the whole of Phendrana's ire stems from the fact that Brennus entertained a male consort in his recent past, and Phendrana has only just learned of it."

"That is most certainly _not_ what this is about!" Phendrana shouted vehemently, doing his best to ignore the telltale burn rising in his cheeks, and Clariburnus chuckled into the back of his hand as he pulled up a seat at the dining table and helped himself to venison and various vegetables.

"Oh I see," said the Fifth Prince with a telling smirk. "You are jealous of Brennus's liaison." He cocked his head in Soleil's direction then, adding, "What was his name again?"

Soleil was spreading raspberry jam over a slice of bread, but her gaze was vacant as she considered. "Malkith. Shadovar. One-fourth Netherese, if memory serves." Then, in response to the quizzical look that Clariburnus fixed her with, "Lady Irileth's head of housekeeping."

This cleared little up for Clariburnus, who asked bluntly, "Irileth?"

"Prince Lamorak's daughter," Soleil reminded impatiently with a sigh.

"Ah!" Clariburnus exclaimed in a fit of sudden understanding, and then he slammed a fist down upon the table so hard that the table settings rattled and a few droplets of tea sloshed out of Phendrana's fine china mug. "_Malkith_ is Brennus's liaison?!"

"Oh for the love of all that is holy," Soleil complained, "_yes_."

There was silence at the dining table for the span of several heartbeats as Soleil buttered her bread with such force that she sliced a hole through the center and Phendrana contemplated retreating into the recesses of his subconscious mind and leaving one of the others to deal with his current predicament, and then Clariburnus said something that improved the doppelganger's mood considerably: "…Surely my brother can find someone better suited for him than that low-class wretch."

"Prince!" Soleil scolded, the soggy and shredded slice of bread forgotten in a pool of jam on her plate, but Phendrana shushed her and leaned forward across the table in earnest.

"What do you mean by that?"

Clariburnus leaned back looking smug, his burly arms crossed over his barrel chest and his silvery eyes shimmering conspiratorially within his murk-swaddled face. "Then you admit that you are interested in him?"

Phendrana knew that he had been caught revealing far too much of the true depths of his feelings, and for a moment he regretted it, but he shook those doubts away at once; it was apparent in the way that Soleil and Clariburnus spoke of Twelfth Prince Brennus that they were among the loremaster's supporters, and were in no way fazed by his personal lifestyle choices. "It would be very beneficial to me if you were to explain yourself first. I am having… difficulty… comprehending all of this."

"What is it that troubles you?" asked Clariburnus, and Phendrana heaved a sigh.

"I have spent most of my life with only the lost ones to keep me company," the mindmaster explained haltingly, "and so never had reason to pursue these… _urgings_… that I find myself afflicted with when I am in Prince Brennus's company. When I occupied the World Below and traveled alongside my then companions to Baldur's Gate in search of relaxation and a bit of sport, I was completely caught off guard by the emotions that befell me when I first became acquainted with Alvaro Rosalles – " Seeing the mildly confused expression that Clariburnus wore Phendrana added hastily, " – The captain of the mercenary vessel _Water Falcon_, devoted to hunting down pirates all along the Sword Coast. The relationship we entered into was founded on things that I see now are not the things that cultivate lasting relationships: co-dependency, over protectiveness, and a desperate bid to understand just why we feel so strongly for a person we barely know." Phendrana dropped his gaze to his hands, surprised and a little grieved to find that he was inadvertently twisting the ensorcelled silver band that adorned his thumb – a band whose twin Rosalles had once worn as a sign of his devotion. "I knew that it could never last, but I did learn a great deal about myself from the encounter – namely that I no longer wish to hide behind faces that are not mine and deeds that I have not truly committed, and that though I fear exposing myself to all the pains that an intimate relationship can bring I yearn for companionship and commitment."

"Is that not then your answer?" Clariburnus wondered aloud. "You have already identified what it is that you want. What is it that gives you pause?"

Phendrana looked up then, his eyes shining with defiance, and finished, "If I am to expose myself to such pains, I refuse to do so with someone who is not prepared to honor my sacrifices. I will not be someone's plaything, or someone's source of entertainment, or Gods forbid just a means to while away the hours. I will be one person for someone, and make that someone my own, or I will be alone. For me, there is no compromise."

Clariburnus glanced sidelong at Soleil, who offered him a shrug and helped herself to another bite of venison; the Fifth Prince pushed his plate back a few inches and cleared his throat delicately. "These are all reasonable requests. Am I to understand that you take the Princes of Shade to be adulterous barbarians who are not aware of the importance of fidelity?"

"With all due respect, Prince," Phendrana snapped, for he was swiftly reaching the end of his patience, "how else am I supposed to take you?"

Clariburnus's eyes flashed with rage and he lurched forward in his seat as though he meant to strike Phendrana, but Soleil was far faster; she clapped one hand down upon his shoulder and veritably threw him back against his chair, and when he opened his mouth to protest she stabbed the butter knife down and embedded it in the surface of the table between the prince's index and middle fingers. He gaped at her incredulously, anger replaced completely by shock, and though Phendrana opened his mouth to apologize the mountebank interceded on his behalf. "Well if he did view the Princes of Shade as adulterous barbarians before, he now has a perfectly valid reason to, doesn't he?"

The Fifth Prince glowered down at the knife still wobbling minutely between his fingers and said nothing in his own defense. Soleil tugged the knife out of the wood and laid it aside as she vacated her chair, and patting Clariburnus reassuringly upon the shoulder she moved through the room to where the curtains swayed in a gentle breeze. She leaned against the floor-to-ceiling window frame and gazed out at the sprawling city of Thultanthar, not quite leaving the room but somehow more removed from the conversation than she had been previously. The shade prince and the mindmaster were both watching her rapturously, and when at last she spoke her words were filled with a wisdom that far exceeded her tender age.

"I used to be just like you, Phendrana," she confessed, sparing a wry chuckle for some memory from her past before she looked back and fixed him with her startlingly beautiful yellow eyes. "Were you aware that before I pledged myself to Prince Escanor, I was actually Hadrhune's consort?"

Phendrana allowed his speechlessness to serve as his response.

"I thought as much." Soleil crossed her arms and glanced back out the window, watching as the evening worship service at the High Church of Shar began to depart the grand chapel in droves. "My reasons for entering into such an arrangement were purely selfish, and had nothing to do with any real emotions that I had for him; I desired him because he and I had one thing in common: we didn't belong. We were outsiders, guests intruding upon the majesty that is the Tanthul family. I wanted to be with him because he understood me on a level that no one else ever could, try as I might to explain myself. That relationship ended badly, as I suspect your relationship with Rosalles ended badly, and for the very same reason – because the foundation of our relationship had nothing to do with love, or trust, or mutual affection.

"But my feelings for Prince Escanor were something else entirely – it was the first time I had ever been in love, and I was terrified of it. The nature of my emotions seemed altogether misplaced to me – how could I feel so strongly for a man who was so out of my reach? I did my best to sublimate my feelings, but the kinder he was to me the more difficult it became. When we at last declared ourselves it came as something of a relief… but the relief did not last, for my tribulations were only just beginning." Soleil's voice became quieter then, and sadder than before; Phendrana wanted nothing more than to rush over to her and embrace her. "Being the eldest of the Most High's sons and thus first in line to inherit the throne, Escanor is actually bound by royal decree to submit his request for marriage before the High Prince to either accept or deny – that is, even though we felt as strongly for each other as we did, there was still a high probability that tradition and law would keep us apart. Being unwilling to part no matter the consequences we agreed to keep our affair a secret from the High Prince for a time, while Escanor worked to learn just how the Most High might receive me when he learned that his eldest son wished to make me a part of the Tanthul family. Being so devoted to Escanor, I agreed… But of course, there were further complications that I did not foresee."

"Complications?" Phendrana echoed softly, and Soleil nodded her head once with a kind of ancient sadness in her eyes.

"The part that you don't understand, Phendrana, is that the Princes of Shade are long-lived creatures; even Brennus, the youngest of them, is still roughly twelve hundred years old. All living beings experience the urgings that you do at some point in their lives, because all living beings crave companionship. May I ask… how old are you?"

"The end of this year will mark the passing of my one hundred and twenty-first winter," Phendrana told her.

"If you so crave another's company when you have lived just twelve decades, can you even begin to imagine the longing that drove Brennus to seek comfort in the arms of his concubine after twelve _centuries_ of life?" When the doppelganger didn't immediately respond, Soleil pressed on ahead. "What about after twenty nine hundred years, like Escanor? Or three millennia and more, like the Most High? Loneliness is an awful thing, Phendrana, perhaps one of the most abhorred emotions that we are capable of feeling, and drives people to do things they normally would shudder just to consider in their efforts to escape it." Soleil glanced back at him then with her quiet and sorrowful smile when she finished, "And it was in such a state that I accepted Escanor for the first time, knowing that he had three consorts already in addition to myself. And of course we were hiding our relationship from the High Prince, and so to keep up pretenses he continued to entertain them occasionally…"

"Stop," Phendrana croaked, in a voice quite unlike his own. "Please… no more. I… I understand."

Soleil shoved away from the window frame and drew right up to him, dropping down to her knees at his side and seizing his shoulders with her hands so that he had no choice but to look her in the eye. "Do you?" she asked somberly, and with the faintest trace of anger. "What you are meant to understand is not that infidelity is a common practice here – for nothing could be further from the truth. What you are meant to understand is that the Princes of Shade seek comfort at times throughout their long and arduous journey through life – and for all we know, their journey through life is eternal. There are still so many things about the Shadow Weave and the magic that sustains the descendents of Netheril; the High Prince and his sons could be as close to immortality as the gods, for all we know. What you must know about Brennus is that yes, he has given himself physically to others, and yes, he currently names Malkith as his concubine, but do you really think so little of him as to believe that he would not be willing to give all of that up for someone he truly cared for?"

The question stopped Phendrana cold, for the moment the words had escaped Soleil's lips he recalled something that Brennus had said earlier, something that, at the time, meant nothing to Phendrana: _"…I feel obligated to inform you that I have seen little of him of late, and that I have not entertained him in private company since I aided you and your former companions in the wilds against Ishka."_

Abruptly, the mindmaster hated himself for being so utterly and completely selfish; he sprang from his chair as though electrocuted, his eyes darting in a panic from Soleil to Clariburnus and back again, until his mind had caught up with the words he meant to speak. "Forgive me… I must go. I fear I have made a terrible mistake."

And without awaiting a reply from either of them he bolted out the door, his boots thudding against the carpeting floor as he ran.

Soleil turned back to find Clariburnus still glaring daggers at her, the offending butter knife held in his upturned palm, and she rolled her eyes to the heavens and laughed. "So many more important things have occurred here, and that is where your concern lies? Perhaps you need to rethink your priorities, Prince."

Clariburnus smiled good-naturedly and dropped the utensil onto his plate with a clatter, but when he looked up his expression had hardened grimly. "Why do you encourage this union between Brennus and Phendrana? The Most High tolerates the company that Brennus chooses to keep, to be sure, but if what Phendrana says is true and Brennus is willing to forsake his consort's company in exchange for Phendrana's, then they are likely to exchange declarations not dissimilar to the ones that you and Escanor will soon make."

"I think you look a little further into the future than either of them has," Soleil admitted, "but perhaps you're right. It may be that the things they feel for one another are lusts of the flesh and little else… But then, it may also come to pass that Phendrana is the man that Brennus has been waiting all those twelve hundred long years for. We do not retain the ability to pick and choose to whom we surrender our hearts – take Hadrhune, for example, the man who cares little for anyone save himself yet just days ago fell to his knees before Archmistress Arthien's body! – and neither have Brennus and Phendrana chosen. That is why the expression is 'falling in love', is it not? One day you are meandering aimlessly through life, and the next your life is meaningless if that person, the other half of yourself, is not there to share it with you. I can only hope that one day Brennus and Phendrana can be that for one another – for is that not better than meandering aimlessly through life all alone?"


	6. Two Steps From My Grave

It wasn't until Phendrana was standing outside the door to the room that he and Prince Brennus had been sharing in the Palace Most high with his hand hovering over the knob that Kiora chose to question his intentions – not in a condescending fashion, but in a quiet, gentle sort of way that made him doubt his own sanity. _Are you sure about this, Phendrana? You know that we stand behind every decision you choose to make, but I cannot help but question decisions that have the potential to hurt you. This is one of the Princes of Shade we are talking about… They can have whatever they want, and often take what is not offered to them with brute force._

For a moment the aasimar's words struck a resounding chord of fear within the doppelganger, and he hesitated with the cool copper of the doorknob beneath his outstretched fingertips. There was no denying Kiora's concerns – after all, only a few weeks ago Second Prince Rivalen had ordered the swift and merciless deaths of the Masked Lords of Waterdeep simply because those monarchs had denied the Princes of Shade entrance into the Tower of Waterdeep… A massacre in which Brennus had taken part, Phendrana remembered with an unpleasant jolt. While it was true that within the walls of Thultanthar the sons of Telamont were loyal to one another and took care of their own, it could also be said that outside the boundaries of their grand enclave no one was safe from their all-encompassing wrath. If Phendrana had any sense at all, he knew he should escape the City of Shade using any means available to him.

But then he remembered that he wasn't their enemy any longer – and truth be told, he hadn't been for several tendays. He was one of them, in every way but his physical appearance; and that, he knew, was something that the Most High intended to remedy at the first available opportunity. That knowledge did nothing to sublimate the terror he felt, but it did bolster his resolve – enough for him to tighten his fingers around the doorknob and turn it in his hand.

_It's Brennus,_ he replied simply, and they all wondered at the fondness with which he said the prince's name. _I am not afraid of him – I am only afraid of the way that he makes me feel. _

And he pushed the door open, fully expecting to face Brennus, only to find the room immaculately tidy, empty, and quiet. He stood in the doorway and scanned the entire suite, fully expecting to see something that alluded to the fact that Brennus still occupied the space, but there was nothing – the beds were both made, the table beside him was clean and polished, and the glass Hadrhune had shattered against the wall only a few hours before had been tidied up so that not even a single shard remained. Phendrana moved swiftly across the room then, his pulse quickening and his chest constricting with something akin to fear, but when he poked his head around the doorframe to inspect the restroom he found it similarly vacant. There was nothing to suggest that the Twelfth Prince had ever been there at all.

He was grateful for his friends and their sympathetic presences then, for had they not enveloped him with their soothing words he may have dissolved into a panic. He sensed more than actually felt the moment when Zerena stretched out her black velvet gloaming's wings and wrapped them comfortingly around the doppelganger's ever-fragile psyche. _Now now, Phendrana, there is no need to fear… Let us consider all the places he may have gone. Is it not time for the twilight gathering of the Shadow Council?_

Phendrana considered the time and thought perhaps she might be right, but he found himself shaking his head a moment later. "Yes, but the High Prince dismissed us both so that we could better prepare for the excavation of the Netherese armory in Castle Tethyr."

_Can you think of no reason he might choose to attend anyway?_ Zerena pressed gently.

"No." Phendrana wasn't altogether certain why he was speaking aloud; perhaps he simply needed to hear his own voice, the greatest comfort he could imagine at that moment. "There are no important issues being discussed this day that I can think of. He wouldn't likely be there."

_The Shadow Mages' College?_ Alax wondered. _Did he not say he had business there?_

The doppelganger trod back to the center of the room, every step leaden with the weight of his despair. "Perhaps, but the hour grows late. Would he have been there all this time? Is it not more likely that I have offended him with my actions and made him want to avoid my company – or worse, that I drove him back into the arms of his concubine, Malkith?"

_Don't think such things, Phendrana,_ cooed Kiora in a matronly voice. _Remember all that Soleil has told you today. Consider her words carefully before you start to fear for the worst. We are all certain that there is a perfectly valid reason for his absence._

Phendrana allowed his head to fall forward into his waiting hands then and covered his face with his slightly-trembling fingers, valiantly fighting the urge to succumb to the tears that were even then beginning to burn the backs of his eyelids. "But I am not certain," he choked out in a hoarse voice, but then his shoulders bobbed once in a silent sob and he found that he hadn't the strength to speak anymore, so he addressed them internally. _I have driven him away. I allowed my insecurities to sabotage whatever it was that we felt for one another. How will I ever begin to seek his forgiveness for my behavior?_

Fortunately it was then, as he was teetering on the very pinnacle of despair, that a soft knock sounded on the open door and craved his attention; he lowered his shaking hands and glanced up with slightly-reddened eyes to find himself standing face to face with a male Shadovar that he didn't recognize. He was barely more than a boy, it seemed to Phendrana, with skin the grayish pallor that the descendents of the Netherese seemed to favor and a mop of dark hair glossed with a faint tinge of chestnut that almost made his shaggy locks appear maroon; had they been standing next to one another the boy would have barely reached Phendrana's sternum with the top of his head, and his eyes were a bright jade and darted about inquisitively. The moment the mindmaster's eyes settled upon him he shrank back from the door as though frightened of being reprimanded, but he did not flee; after taking a moment to compose himself he bowed low with his hands clasped before him and his torso parallel to the floor.

"Lord Phendrana?"

The formality with which the boy addressed him was almost alarming; Phendrana was so shocked at this treatment that his answer was not at all eloquent. "…Am I to expect to receive this sort of greeting often?"

The boy straightened and brushed a few strands of hair out of his eyes with a small smile. "Yes, sir. Please allow me to introduce myself – I am Lux, formerly the head housekeeper of Villa Tareia. I have been appointed your household servant by my former master, Twelfth Prince Brennus Tanthul."

Phendrana stood a little straighter at the mention of Brennus and a glimmer of real hope returned to his eyes. "W-What?"

"Yes." Lux chuckled softly beneath his breath as though amused with Phendrana's uncertainty. "I have been charged to deliver a message to you from Prince Brennus. He hopes that you are well, and that you find yourself in good health and better humor. He asks that you allow me to escort you to Villa Tareia, so that he might enjoy the pleasure of your company; he also regrets that he could not seek you out himself, but he has been much preoccupied in preparing for the excavation of Castle Tethyr and begs that you forgive him."

The words touched Phendrana in a way that made him feel proud yet guilty at the same time, for it seemed now that he had been selfish and juvenile while Brennus had been nothing but patient and courteous of him. He stumbled a step or two nearer to the boy who called himself Lux with his pulse pounding in his ears and nodded earnestly, saying, "Please… take me to him. I must see him."

Lux bent slightly at the waist, an indulgent and polite smile on his lips. "Right away, sir. Follow me." And he turned sharply on his heel and led the way out of the room with Phendrana practically stumbling along in his wake.

The Shadovar that Phendrana suddenly found in his service did not have the ability to shadow walk, though it seemed that few who were not shades retained that particular skill to use at will, and so it felt that the journey from the Palace Most High to Villa Tareia took an eternity. For his part Lux moved swiftly through the crowds and stopped to talk to no one; he did not look away from his goal, and he didn't spare another word for Phendrana as he hurried about the task he had been appointed. When they entered the Circle Phendrana pried his eyes away from Lux's back and looked up at the stunning piece of architecture that was the new Villa Tareia, and he couldn't help but be impressed by what he saw: it looked much as it had in the days prior to the phaerimm invasion, except now another wing had been added to the second floor of the household below and to the left of the observation deck from which Brennus was known to study astrology from time to time. He marveled at the beauty of the place that was now his home and even felt a little foolish – after all, he had left Villa Cloveri barely a half hour ago and hadn't once noticed that the reconstruction of Prince Brennus's home was complete. It was then that he realized that Lux was waiting patiently for him at the doors, and so he quickened his pace and allowed the boy to bow him through the entrance and into the foyer.

The lower level of the abode was serene and quiet, for it was well past evening meal time and so the kitchen was cleaned and both cooks and maids had completed their chores and retired to their barracks. The layout of the house was identical to what he was already familiar with, and so leaving his new attendant behind in the foyer he passed through the entrance hall before turning immediately to the left and scaling the carpeted staircase to the second floor landing. Prior to the addition to the villa there had been nothing to the right of the staircase, and so Phendrana was mildly surprised to find that the wall had been taken down and yet another corridor branched off into the chambers Brennus had specifically commissioned for his use; curiosity pulled strongly at him then, and though he longed to inspect his new living quarters he quelled his newfound interest with thoughts of Brennus and turned his back on it, instead beating the familiar path down the hallway that led to the left. He passed the washroom, Brennus's private prayer room, the alchemical laboratory and the prince's spell repertoire library, and suddenly he found himself facing the closed door at the end of the corridor that would lead him straight into the loremaster's private chambers.

And still he hadn't considered just what he would say. Should he admit himself? Would it be wise of him to knock, announce his presence, perhaps ask if he still had the right to entertain the prince in private? As he contemplated the closed door before him and pondered his next move voices wafted up from the other side of the door, and so taking a step closer he flattened his ear against the smooth ebony surface and listened.

"…Likely that the armory is located underground."

"A sound hypothesis, Prince. All our evidence supports such a theory. Where do you think we should start?"

There was a very pregnant pause as Brennus considered the question, and Phendrana took the opportunity to nudge the door open and peek tentatively into the room; Prince Brennus was hunched over his study desk, countless sheaves of parchment littering the finely hewn surface bathed in the modest light of violet flames that illuminated the room and a tiny crease between his eyes as he considered what appeared to be a roughly-drawn map of a network of subterranean tunnels. Standing at his shoulder was a willowy female Shadovar with distinctly elven facial features and a clean shaven head, scrutinizing the parchment in Brennus's hand and balancing a small stack of ancient and dusty tomes against her hip with one arm; across the room stood the boy Lux, and Phendrana marveled at just how the young man had come to be in the loremaster's chambers since he had not accompanied the mindmaster upstairs. After a moment's further consideration Brennus traced one shadowy finger across the page, indicating the southernmost tunnel on the crudely-drawn map. "Here, I think, though the initial sweep of the tunnels will take a little time. These records are all intact and will prove to be of great use to us, but the scribe – whoever he was – neglected to indicate the entrances into the catacombs. We will have to locate those before we can even begin to take our search below ground."

As the female Shadovar was nodding her agreement, Lux lifted one hand to his mouth and coughed politely upon the back of his hand, thus drawing both of their gazes; once he had their attentions he bowed low. "Forgive my intrusion, Prince, but I have brought Lord Phendrana as per your request."

Brennus snapped his gaze upon the door, noticing perhaps for the first time that it now stood slightly ajar, and his eyes alighted upon Phendrana. The doppelganger resisted the urge to draw back and instead pushed the door open wide enough to fully admit himself into the room, careful not to lose eye contact with the Twelfth Prince now that it had been established. The vice that had been slowly tightening around his chest loosened considerably as he watched the loremaster's expression soften from doubt to unmistakable relief, and Brennus straightened and nodded gratefully at Lux. "Thank you, Lux – you are a great comfort to me. That is all for today… Please see that you report to your new station promptly in the morning, to see to any needs that Phendrana may have."

"Yes, sir." Lux gracefully bowed himself out of the room, slipping past Phendrana with his eyes fixed respectfully upon the floor.

"Shall we continue tomorrow?" asked the female Shadovar with the bald pate, for Brennus was already rolling sheaves of parchment up in a way that clearly stated their meeting was at an end.

"No, Altaria, I will be indisposed as I will be participating in the Doubles Combat. Let us convene again the day after tomorrow at… oh, shall we say, ten o' clock? I should have completed my morning errands by then. You will take the documents back to the College?"

The woman called Altaria was tucking the proffered parchments beneath her free arm now. "With your permission, I should like to take them home with me… I will study them at length before I retire and see what else I can discern for tonight."

"I appreciate your dedication to this task." Brennus offered Altaria a smile of gratitude before she turned to excuse herself, but it seemed forced to Phendrana for whatever reason; the Shadovar with the elven features bowed to Phendrana before slipping out between him and the door, her footfalls barely audible as she trod down the hall upon the soft carpet underfoot. He waited until the sound of Altaria's retreat ended with the great front doors closing behind her, and then he turned back to face Brennus; the loremaster was watching him with a carefully guarded expression, though he was making a most valiant effort to appear composed. The intangible vice that had loosened around his chest tightened again most painfully, for he was now suddenly terrified that all the things he most feared to hear were about to fall upon his ears.

"You are well?" asked Brennus, his tone a little too formal, a little too aloof.

Phendrana nodded once but found that he couldn't offer a verbal response of any kind, for suddenly it seemed that his throat had constricted and left him quite speechless.

Brennus was all business then as he retreated to his desk, his eyes flitting over open books and weathered and yellowing parchments that Phendrana suspected were far older than he was; the loremaster snatched up a few documents from the pile and presented them to Phendrana, careful, the doppelganger noticed, not to initiate any sort of physical contact between them. The knowledge that Brennus was going out of his way to keep his distance incited a pang of sorrow within his chest. "The excavation team has been assigned, and I met with them an hour ago to share my plans for the armory. The woman who just excused herself, Altaria, is a senior loremaster at the College and has accompanied me on many journeys that are archeological in nature; she seems to believe that the armory notated in the Nether Scroll you brought with you from Manifest can be found beneath the foundations of Castle Tethyr, as we originally guessed. She will be doing some research over the next two days, for though we have a good idea of where to start we do not have the locations of any of the entrances into the tunnels that span beneath the castle's foundation. At this point, unfortunately, it is only guesswork that there are tunnel entrances at all – Altaria seems to think it far more likely that the previous generation of monarchs that presided over the castle sealed off any entrances for their own safety, though what they felt they needed to protect themselves from is anyone's guess."

The doppelganger found himself nodding along but felt that he would do well to say something soon, or risk inciting the prince's wrath. "Is there any way that I might assist you?"

"Yes, actually – I am glad you have asked." Brennus let the stack of loose papers he was holding fall back onto the desk with a soft _thump_, seemingly unconcerned when the top few sheets slid from the top of the pile to litter the floor at his feet. "You might explain to me why it is you feel wronged, because I confess myself at a loss for how to dissolve the enmity between us."

They stood facing one another, Brennus's bronze eyes burning in the perpetual darkness of his face and Phendrana's breathing slightly quickened with unmistakable terror; the doppelganger knew that if he didn't explain himself accurately enough he would run the risk of losing not only the Twelfth Prince's affections, but his favor as well. Half formed explanations and excuses chased one another through his mind, for he certainly was not at a loss for ways to talk himself out of any reprimand or punishment the loremaster may have designed in his absence, but it occurred to him then that he didn't want to. As much as it surprised him to realize it, Phendrana found that he preferred the prospect of losing Brennus's favor for offering the truth as opposed to making things well between them at the cost of a few well-spoken lies. As he was considering just what to say, the voice of Ristel Clearsea echoed through the expanse of his subconscious mind with perhaps the greatest wisdom he had ever offered.

_You think too much, Phendrana. It seems to me that this is a situation in which your actions might speak louder than any words you might offer… Wouldn't you agree?_

Phendrana reached one hand behind him, his eyes still locked upon Brennus's, and pushed the door closed with a muted _click_; his feet carried him forward in carefully measured strides until he had drawn right up to the slightly shorter man, and when they stood barely inches apart Phendrana respectfully ducked his head and sank down onto one knee, exposing the back of his neck in a gesture of complete and utter trust, letting his shoulders sag forward in subservience. He thought he may have heard a barely audible gasp of surprise escape Brennus's lips, but he wasn't altogether certain and didn't dare to glance up to confirm it. Instead he kept his eyes fixed firmly upon the prince's supple boots and spoke in hushed tones, in words that were unfamiliar even to him. "My Lord, my Liege, my Sovereign, my dear Prince Brennus, I beg you forgive my earlier behavior. No doubts or fears of mine should ever cause such discord as I was responsible for when last I stood before you – I have no excuses for the way that I treated you. Please allow me to redeem myself by swearing that I will offer myself up to your every whim – I will not complain, and I will serve your every interest with the full depths of my attentiveness and diligence."

A resounding silence followed Phendrana's declaration; the man at whose feet he knelt did not move, or speak, or even dare to breathe for a moment that seemed far longer than it truly was. Just when Phendrana was beginning to fear that his apology would do him little good Brennus sucked in a ragged breath and spoke in a hoarse, strangled sort of voice: "What do you mean, Phendrana? What has possessed you to say such things?"

"I have no right to refuse you," Phendrana continued in a flat, monotonous voice that was quite unlike his own. "I am here at your behest, and I would like to continue to serve you in whatever way most pleases you. I assure you that you will hear no further protests from me."

He felt the tips of Brennus's fingers gently take hold of his chin, and the prince exerted the barest amount of pressure to guide Phendrana's head up until they were looking one another in the eye. Brennus's eyes were solemn and sad, confused and sympathetic; he bent slightly at the waist to bring his face level with Phendrana's, his fingertips lingering upon the doppelganger's chin, and when he spoke Phendrana was nearly overwhelmed by the otherworldly, indescribable scent that lingered upon his breath.

"Oh Phendrana," he lamented, his voice pained, "there is nothing that I want from you, save perhaps the pleasure of your company. I have done a great deal of thinking in your absence, and I realize now that I should have been completely honest with you from the start on the subject of my personal life. And I want you to know that even though I did not divulge the particulars of my most recent tryst, I was honest when I said that I have not entertained his company since you and I began to become better acquainted." He laughed helplessly once to himself then before adding, "I confess… the only company I wished to entertain, then and now, was yours."

Phendrana blinked slowly, stunned into silence by his companion's all-too-sudden proximity, but when he realized just what Brennus was attempting to apologize for he protested at once. "No – you owe me no such apology, and I beseech you not to offer me another for I do not deserve it. Since the moment I came here you have shown me nothing but kindness and courtesy, and my behavior was a very poor way to thank you for all that you have done for me. Who you might have pursued in the past is of no interest to me, nor is it any of my business, and most importantly I have no reason whatsoever to be suspicious of your word. If you say that you are not consorting with anyone, then that should be more than good enough for me."

The loremaster's eyes were liquid bronze with emotion and irresistible; when he blinked wondrously back at Phendrana it seemed that sparks flew from those jewel-bright orbs, and the doppelganger found himself hypnotized by the gaze. The spell was only broken when Brennus smiled and murmured, "There will be no arguing with you, it seems… Very well. I will not apologize again, but I command you to let go of your guilt on this matter. If you are as devoted to me as you say, this will prove to be an easy task for you, will it not?"

Phendrana found himself smiling up at the Twelfth Prince, whose fingers upon his jaw had now grown almost unbearably warm, when he said, "Yes, Prince."

Brennus nodded as though satisfied and placed his hands upon Phendrana's shoulders as he guided him back to his feet, and when they stood almost level he clasped his hands together before him and asked, "Now then… Would you like to see your new home?"

There was a giddiness in both the loremaster's voice and his eyes that was very endearing; it widened the grin already in place upon Phendrana's face and he nodded. Brennus skirted around him and made for the door, and the doppelganger followed a pace or two behind him. They traversed the hall together until they reached the first door on the right side of the newly constructed wing, and there Brennus admitted himself with Phendrana close at his heels. The room they found themselves in was of ovular shape with a high ceiling and ebony wood floors covered with a handsome throw rug of some richly embroidered design; the walls were lined floor to ceiling with bookcases, all of which were stacked neatly with hundreds of books. Some of the books had no titles, some were written in languages that Phendrana didn't even recognize, and still others caught his attention with either a familiar author's name or a particularly intriguing title. He traced his hand over the spines of several books resting on a row at about shoulder height, skimming their titles with his eyes and wondering at the contents of several of them as Brennus appraised his reaction with an expectant expression.

"Are these… from the Grand Library?" Phendrana breathed incredulously, and turning back he saw Brennus nod as though pleased with his assessment.

"Many of these here are from my own personal library – you will find that my spell repertoire library is no more, as I have moved those texts into this room, and is now a small armory that you and I will share – and the remainder is books that the High Prince donated to our cause and your education. The books detailing the origins of the Dracon are now here, as well as the complete history of Netheril, all of the Nether Scrolls we have located to date, and Prince Rivalen's accounts of Thultanthar's days spent within the Plane of Shadow. They have been trusted into our care, and the High Prince may be donating more to us in the future."

Phendrana ran his hand the length of the spine of one of the massive tomes that read _900 - 950 DR_, penned, he suspected, in Second Prince Rivalen's own hand, as he murmured wondrously, "A very generous gift."

Brennus nodded sagely. "Indeed. The Most High favors your cause, Phendrana, and has recognized your potential from the very start. He is eager to hone your skills, and to help you better understand what you will soon become."

"I must thank him," the doppelganger mused aloud. "I suspect he is going well out of his way to accommodate me."

The loremaster said nothing in reply to this, but Phendrana took his silence as an agreement and dropped his hand from the bookshelf; Brennus gestured to the open door of the library with a polite smile. "Shall we?"

They exited the library and turned down the hall to the right, where at the end of the corridor was one more closed door that Phendrana supposed led to his new private quarters. Brennus turned the handle and opened the door inward before stepping back and gesturing for Phendrana to enter first, and so the doppelganger stepped over the threshold and beheld his new home for the very first time.

It was far grander than anything he had ever imagined for himself. Ebony wood floors lined with elegantly embroidered rugs stretched out beneath his feet and covered every inch of the ground; to his immediate left stood a small circular dining table with two matching chairs and finely polished silver place settings, as well as delicate crystal glasses with fragile-looking stems. A small three-shelf bookcase stood against the right wall, and upon further inspection Phendrana found that it was stocked with a diverse set of books that all pertained to him in some way; various titles included _A Brief History of the Doppelganger, Shape-shifters: Masters of Illusion, Mindmasters: Transcending the Physical Realm _and _Ghostwalker Lore_. A desk had been set up for his use also; rolls of new parchment were stacked neatly in the top drawer, a collection of quills sporting feathers with lovely plumage adorned the surface of the desk, and someone had even fashioned a wax seal especially for him with a stylized capital _P_. The bed at the far left side of the room stood on squat ebony wood legs that grew into elegant four-posters; it was twice as wide as he was tall and set with a plush jade green quilt and matching tasseled pillows. Directly opposite from where he stood a pair of floor to ceiling windows stood open wide with dark green curtains framing either side and leading out to a very small patio, affording him a stunning view of the Shadow Mages College, the Hall of the Arts Martial, and Thultanthar's Lower District beyond that; the patio was barely one third the size of the one Brennus entertained, but a small spiral staircase attached to the right side of the balcony suggested that he had direct access to the astrology observatory, and arguably the most breathtaking view in the enclave.

Phendrana stood in the middle of the room, humbled and flattered and stunned into silence, until Brennus drew level with him and gently touched the doppelganger's shoulder in an effort to jar him from his reverie. When Phendrana turned fully to face him it was to find that the loremaster had drawn very close, his inquisitive expression somehow captivating and his bronze eyes flashing their liquid fire into the very depths of the mindmaster's soul.

"Does this please you?" asked Brennus in a voice that was soft and undeniably sensual; the way the Twelfth Prince asked the question made Phendrana's mouth water and his pulse quicken.

"This is more than I could have ever dreamed," he answered, with yet another awed glance around at the almost surreal finery that surrounded him, "and more than I could ever deserve." He gazed deep into Brennus's eyes then, with such intensity that he witnessed the moment when the loremaster's eyes slowly dilated in wordless response, and added, "Why? Why do you insist on giving me all these things?"

Brennus blinked slowly once, and as the ghost of a smile graced his lips for the barest fraction of a second he murmured, "Do you not know?"

There wasn't a single word that Phendrana could think to say that had even a hope of adequately expressing the many emotions that were assailing him; he stood there quietly and in very obvious turmoil, every muscle in his body taut to the point of strain, his lips slightly parted in a wordless beginning to all of the things that he so desperately wanted to convey – and yet still the words wouldn't come. Brennus sensed his uncertainty and drifted a step backward, a smile still frozen in place upon his lips, but his eyes lacked the excitement they had held just moments before and his posture belied his disappointment. Before Phendrana could apologize for the moment's undue hesitation the Twelfth Prince was backing away slowly, saying, "I should leave you to get settled – the hour is late, and you will need your rest for tomorrow. I trust by now you have been told of the Doubles Combat?"

At last Phendrana remembered how to speak, it seemed. "Yes. Soleil was even kind enough to show me around the battlefield." He paused for a moment to collect himself and then bowed respectfully, adding, "It is my hope that we are partners tomorrow, Prince Brennus, for there is no one else whom I would rather accompany into battle. And if we are to be rivals... I can only hope that I meet my end at another's hand before our paths cross, for I do not have the heart to cause you any harm."

Brennus's smile widened at this, though he still seemed somehow dismayed, and with one hand resting upon the doorframe he said kindly, "You flatter me with your kindness; your motivations are no mystery to me, for they are also mine. If we are fated to meet one another on the battlefield as enemies, I fear I will dishonor myself and my brothers when I forfeit myself to you." Then he bade Phendrana goodnight and swept around the corner, closing the door softly behind him.

_Forgive me for saying so, _Ristel drawled, with a trace of his characteristic sarcasm coloring his tone, _but you are most eloquently spoken when you haven't the slightest need to be, and your words tend to fail you at the most inopportune times imaginable._

"These observations of yours are not news to me," Phendrana sighed, and he sat heavily upon the edge of his bed and let his head fall forward into his waiting hands as he bemoaned his current predicament. "What ails me? Why can I not find the courage within me to say what I truly feel?"

_Because you haven't yet found the words,_ Kiora pointed out reassuringly. _You know only that whatever it is you are feeling, you are feeling it most strongly. Is this yet another example of what Ristel was saying earlier? Would your actions not speak louder than any words in this instance as well?_

Phendrana found himself nodding, for of course she was right. He sat there for a few minutes more, considering just how to act and letting the slowly-formulating plan inspire courage and resolve within him, until he felt brave enough to take his feet and cross the room to the handsome wardrobe built into the wall between the patio and the bookcase. He wrenched its drawers open in earnest, not at all surprised to find that the closet had been stocked with all manner of clothing ranging from the most leisurely to the very height of couture; he untied the silver sash that kept his current garb from drifting open and laid it over the back of the desk chair before shrugging out of the silky black robes Brennus himself had presented for his use and tossing them over the sash. He kicked off his boots and discarded his simple black breeches next, and standing naked before the open wardrobe he at last settled upon what to wear.

The shift was a few inches too long for him to wear while barefoot, but it suited him just fine. It was a lovely shade of moderately-translucent moonlight-silver that almost perfectly matched the hue of his abnormally large pupils, with long sleeves that fell just past his wrists but didn't cover enough of his hands to be considered a hindrance to his movement. The smooth garment had a plunging neckline that showed off most of his narrow, hairless chest and a slit up the right side to a point several inches above his knee, so that one strong thigh and slender calf was visible with every other stride he took; it cinched at the waist with a dark emerald silk sash that was a bit slimmer than the one he had donned previously. On the whole it was alluring on a very simplistic level and somehow more feminine than anything he had ever worn, but he adored it all the same.

He took in his reflection in the looking glass that adorned the closed left door of the wardrobe, removing the circlet he always wore and the bracelet on which hung charms fashioned in the likenesses of the favored weapon of each of his six dear lost friends, for surely he wouldn't need either of those magical effects where he was going. He also chose to ignore his boots for the same reason, which had wound up piled beneath his study desk and looked hopelessly travel-worn anyway; his friends lifted their voices within his subconscious mind with words of encouragement and praise, but he was quick to quell them for fear they would only serve as distractions.

"Leave me for now," Phendrana all but begged them. "I need this night for myself."

One by one they drifted out of his perception and into a crevice of his mind that he could only access when he was unconscious or otherwise incoherent, until Phendrana was left only with his own thoughts and a curious sense of ultimate privacy that he was not at all accustomed to. In that peace he was reassured of his decision – it would be him and Brennus, with no one else to interfere. And so it was with tentative but unhesitant steps that Phendrana moved for the door of his private quarters, the too-long hem of his slightly-revealing attire brushing against his bare ankles as he slipped into the hallway and trod noiselessly through the too-quiet villa. When he reached the door at the end of the corridor, the only real obstacle that stood now between him and Twelfth Prince Brennus Tanthul, he admitted himself without so much as pausing to knock; this action made him feel suddenly brazen, sending an electric shock of real excitement down his spine that dispelled his uncertainty all at once and replaced it with a nigh-unbearable sense of anticipation.

The room was mostly dark save for a candle burning with a single tongue of magical crimson flame set within a pewter candlestick upon the loremaster's study desk; Brennus was seated in the high-backed study chair and hunched over one of the many books detailing the rise and fall of Castle Tethyr, Phendrana assumed, with the smallest crease of concentration etched between his eyes. The opening of the door was lost on him for he did not look up even when Phendrana crossed the threshold, but the instant the door shut with a soft _click_ the Twelfth Prince shot a glance toward the entrance. Phendrana couldn't help but flinch away from the quiet rage contained within Brennus's smoldering bronze eyes – he had forgotten just how vengeful the youngest prince could be when his work was disturbed for any reason – but when the loremaster recognized just who had come to call on him his expression immediately softened. He set aside book and quill hastily and rose most gracefully from his chair, circling the desk and facing Phendrana with a welcoming yet slightly quizzical smile.

"Phendrana," he greeted, and a shiver that was in no way unpleasant bolted down the doppelganger's spine at the husky way the prince spoke his name. Brennus left the single word as his salutation as he tilted his head minutely to the side, searching Phendrana's face for a clue as to why he had come, but the doppelganger was careful to keep his expression perfectly blank as he gazed back into the bronze eyes he had come to know so well in such a short period of time.

Mastering himself Phendrana slowly closed the distance between them and drew right up to the loremaster, standing so near that he could actually see the individual facial features that normally weren't visible through the thin haze of shadows that always clung to Brennus's body. Brennus was possessed of an inquisitive, clever face and eyes that were filled with ageless wisdom, a small rounded nose, and high cheekbones; his lips were a shade paler than the rest of his dark skin, and the contrast only added to his otherworldly, exotic appearance. He had the slight, compact frame of a spellcaster, all lithely-toned arms, narrow waist and slender shoulders; he wore only a slightly baggy pair of silky dark pants whose waistline slung low upon his narrow hipbones, and the flawless planes of his body and the exquisite interplay of his muscles was, to Phendrana, nothing less than enthralling.

The mindmaster dipped his head a fraction, the only display of proper obeisance he could offer without breaking the eye contact that so bound them, and whispered the only words that made sense for him to say. "Prince... I have come here to serve and worship you. Will you allow me to do so?"

Brennus gazed back at him silently, his lips slightly parted in surprise, and Phendrana was awarded the supreme pleasure of watching the molten quality return to the prince's eyes. So enchanted was he by the liquid bronze pools that watched him with such simmering intensity that Phendrana did not even bother to wait for the prince's reply; instead he craned his neck forward and brushed his lips gingerly against the hollow just beneath the loremaster's earlobe. Brennus sucked in a breath and stood frozen in place as Phendrana's lips traveled slowly down the side of his neck, raising goose bumps upon every millimeter of skin they came in contact with. The Twelfth Prince's eyes drifted closed and he shuddered as Phendrana's hands settled upon his waist, fingertips tracing gently from his hipbones to the small of his back, every movement tantalizing and almost agonizingly slow.

The doppelganger's lips brushed against Brennus's ear then, whispering hushed and feverish words that set the Twelfth Prince's blood to a boil: "Time has not been kind to us, but I can assure you that at least for a little while tonight circumstances will be far kinder."

He drew back just enough to gaze into the loremaster's face, to catch a glimpse of how his words had been received; the molten bronze orbs were embers of all-consuming flame, wreathing Phendrana with their intensity and scorching the very depths of his soul, and he feared that if he remained in such close proximity to such passion he would be reduced to cinders. Brennus clamped one hand down around the doppelganger's wrist and tugged him across the room, not with haste but with care and something not unlike reverence, and when they reached his bed he paused as the first flash of uncertainty clouded his features.

"I cannot in good conscience allow this to happen," he confessed, his eyes in their sudden despair in stark contrast to the tension practically emanating from his body. "I know that you have reservations about this… I could not bear it if later I found you had come to me in fear."

Phendrana sat down upon the edge of the mattress, which was softer than a cloud and gave gently beneath his weight, and swung his legs up onto the plush comforter so that he was reclining against the mound of supple bronze-tasseled pillows. Reaching up he wound his arms around the loremaster's slight waist and all but dragged him from his feet, depositing him unceremoniously on his back and all but pinning him in place as he leaned all of his weight upon his left arm. He hovered there for a moment, admiring the shade prince's exquisite beauty and the expression he wore that was part desire and part alarm, before shifting his weight to bring them closer still and moving his face so near that their lips brushed together when he spoke his next words. "I am not afraid. You must know that I desire you with all my heart."

Twelfth Prince Brennus Tanthul was stronger of will than most, but such was the nature of his desire and the magnitude of the effect of Phendrana's words upon him that his discipline was suddenly shattered; he wound his arms around Phendrana's shoulders and tugged him down, claiming the doppelganger's lips with his own in a rush of need so acute it nearly caused him pain. Phendrana braced himself over the shade with both of his arms, trembling not from physical exertion but from the intensity of the prince's sudden passionate assault, and for his part he could do little more for the first few moments but allow himself to be utterly consumed by it.

Phendrana had not considered just what he was offering himself up for when he had made up his mind to pursue the Twelfth Prince of Shade. The man that he so desired was not a man at all, he rationalized as Brennus's mouth lavished kisses against the tender flesh of his throat – he was not mortal, nor did he even have a heart within his chest. He was a creature of darkness, a being nearer to immortality than perhaps any other living thing in all of Faerun could claim to be, whose existence was sustained by the purest essence of shadow and whose body could not even be harmed by conventional weapons. It was with this knowledge in his mind and the feeling of Brennus's hands fumbling with the sash tying the doppelganger's shift together at the waist that brought to Phendrana the crashing realization that the shade prince would likely demand everything he had to offer to slake such insatiable lust – perhaps far more than he could give.

Phendrana returned to himself to find the shift hanging off his shoulders, his torso completely exposed down to his navel, and Brennus's lips raining kisses down upon his chest, and was suddenly terrified. That terror, coupled with a sensation of arousal the likes of which he had never experienced, was too much for him to bear all at once; though he attempted to subdue the sudden cry that ripped from his throat, he was not altogether successful.

Brennus's eyes snapped open, now flooded with concern, and suddenly Phendrana's world turned over; when he at last managed to regain his bearings he found himself flat on his back cradled in a pair of shadowy arms, and in the light from the single crimson candle he could see Brennus's face hovering a few inches above his own wearing an expression of deepest agony.

"I'm sorry," he gasped out, his voice constricted with the torment that was apparent in his face and the arousal he was struggling so valiantly to contain. "I'm so sorry, Phendrana. Are you alright?"

This was a curious thing to ask, Phendrana thought, for it wasn't as though he had verbally protested anything that the prince had done; only then did he realize that his cheeks were streaked with the damp tracks that his tears had left behind, perfectly visible in the soft illumination from the single candle burning on the loremaster's desk. He dabbed at the tear tracks with his fingertips, suddenly mortified by his lack of composure and his utter rejection of Brennus, and glancing up into those tortured bronze eyes he could only gasp out, "Forgive me."

"No." Brennus's voice was stern as his hands came to rest on Phendrana's face, forcing the doppelganger to look him in the eye. "The fault is mine. I was… overzealous. I apologize."

"Why am I so frightened?" Phendrana's question was meant to be rhetorical, but for some reason that he couldn't begin to explain the loremaster's eyes darkened in response to the inquiry. "I trust you implicitly. I am not afraid to experience pleasure at your hands and I certainly have no reservations about making you feel pleasure in return. It's just that… What I am attempting to give you, I have not yet given to anyone. Please don't be angry… I cannot bear it."

Brennus's eyes were wide now; he floundered with his words for a moment, the first time he had done such a thing in Phendrana's company, before he finally managed to gasp out, "You are… That is to say, you haven't… You maintain your virtue? You have never lain with _anyone_?"

"Do you… disapprove?" Was he to be chastised for the innocence of his body? Was virginity so foreign a concept in Thultanthar that the very idea of someone retaining such a thing was considered archaic?

His premature anger dissolved almost at once, for Brennus gathered him even closer into his arms then and held him with the comfort and security with which he might hold a child. The loremaster's lips were at his ear when he murmured, "No, Phendrana, I could never disapprove of such a thing… Shar knows I would give much to find myself in a similar situation. I find myself honored by what you have offered, but I must tell you: now that I know just what it is that you are offering, I refuse to take it from you."

"What?" There was a note of genuine hurt in Phendrana's voice. "Why?"

Brennus chuckled beneath his breath; the sound of it so close to Phendrana's ear sent a shudder coursing down the doppelganger's spine. "Do you believe I do not desire to take it from you? Believe me, Phendrana, nothing could be further from the truth. It is because I don't believe that I deserve such a priceless gift from you." He drifted back a few inches, a half-smile upon his lips and one hand stroking affectionately over Phendrana's cheek, and Phendrana found himself much soothed by his kind words and his almost frighteningly gentle touches. "I must beg your forgiveness yet again, but I assure you I have mastered myself. I will be more careful with my advances in the future."

"It is I who should apologize to you," Phendrana protested, but Brennus wouldn't hear his protests and laid his index finger gingerly against the doppelganger's lips, in effect ending any further debate.

"That's enough, Phendrana." The familiar crease formed between the prince's eyes as he considered how best to proceed. "Are you tired? Shall I escort you back to your room?" Trepidation returned to the mindmaster's face, and he shook his head at once; Brennus stroked his finger slowly from one corner of the doppelganger's mouth to the other, allowing a tiny smirk to touch his lips when the gesture caused Phendrana to squirm involuntarily beneath him. "Should you like to stay here, then?"

Phendrana nodded almost eagerly. "For as long as you will have me, Prince."

Brennus's eyes flitted briefly from Phendrana's face and raked over his chest, which the doppelganger had neglected to cover in the wake of his mild fit of hysteria. Though Phendrana was a cerebral creature by nature he was much more muscular than Brennus, for he often paired certain of his mental facilities with his preferred method of physical combat, an elven thinblade and a kukri. His torso was expertly honed with slender planes of well-toned muscle, stronger about his midsection and tapering into a more lithe physique near his chest and shoulders; the jade green sash that knitted the doppelganger's silver shift together at the waist was quite loose, but the fabric fell just so that none of his skin was exposed below his navel. For a moment Brennus lamented – it would take hardly an effort at all on his part to push the offending fabric aside – but the moment was fleeting and he banished it from his mind almost at once. He managed to pry his eyes away from the doppelganger's body after several seconds, and when he looked back into Phendrana's face it was to find that those lovely silver eyes of his had darkened to a most delectable shade of iron.

"Perhaps it is not I who should be worshipped," Brennus observed with a light chuckle, "but you. Do not misunderstand – I intend to keep my promise, and I _will_ leave your virtue intact this night, but your pleasure… Ah, that is something I desire to take from you, perhaps above all else."

Predictably, Phendrana attempted to protest. "I could never presume to be so selfish – "

"This is my offer," Brennus interrupted, and stroking his fingernail lightly across the doppelganger's lips again he effectively silenced him. "And on my honor as a Prince of Shade, I will keep my word." He drifted nearer then and brushed his lips against Phendrana's cheek, so near his lips that Phendrana uttered a low sound that was almost a whimper, and finished, "Say that you will allow me to please you… I assure you, I will make it worth your while."

"Yes," Phendrana at last gasped out, his voice desperate and wanton. "Please…"

It was all the prompting Brennus required, but he responded far differently this time than he had previously. Instead of setting upon the doppelganger like a ravenous animal would he tempered his own eagerness with his overlying desire to win Phendrana's trust; he descended slowly and brushed his lips along Phendrana's jaw, his index finger still tracing the outline of the doppelganger's lips, and as he had done earlier that day – had it occurred so recently? – he tipped Phendrana's head back with his free hand and exposed Phendrana's throat to his attentions. Brennus moved with great care, allowing his mouth to travel the length of the mindmaster's jaw to the point of his chin and then downward, lingering at the swell of the doppelganger's jugular just long enough to trace the bulge with the tip of his tongue. The sudden, unexpected sensation elicited a deep groan from Phendrana and he arched his back involuntarily; Brennus repeated the motion once more, pleased with the favorable response, but did not linger, for already Phendrana's body was taut with such need that it was almost painful for Brennus to observe. His lips fell upon the hollow at the base of the doppelganger's throat and lingered there as he began to make better use of his hands, painstakingly brushing the soft fabric of the shift Phendrana wore down his arms until his chest was completely bare; Brennus lifted his head a fraction if only to study Phendrana's face, and felt his skin heat up to find the doppelganger's eyes squeezed closed and a look of undiluted ecstasy upon his face.

"More?" Brennus whispered, and the feel of the prince's hot breath tickling his chest made Phendrana shudder and moan, as much an answer as he was capable of giving.

With feather light touches Brennus allowed his hands to explore Phendrana's torso, the dexterous pads of his fingers tracing the flat, well toned planes of muscle that defined the doppelganger's chest. In the midst of his ministrations one of his fingers brushed gently over one of the peaked nubs upon Phendrana's chest, and the doppelganger's answering keen of pleasure and surprise actually ripped a low moan from somewhere deep in Brennus's throat. The shade ceased his other seemingly insignificant touches and lifted himself up onto his elbows, one finger tracing a languid circle around the puckered flesh, and lowering his head he lapped the other with an experimental flick of his tongue. Phendrana nearly whimpered at the sensation, one hand grasping a small handful of the quilt beneath them at irregular intervals and the other inadvertently came to rest upon the back of the prince's head. This only served to spur Brennus on and he repeated the action again and again until Phendrana was all but thrashing beneath him.

Sensing that the mindmaster could take little more of such attentions Brennus raised his head again, the liquid bronze quality of his eyes scorching Phendrana with their unbridled intensity, and when he was certain Phendrana would comprehend the words as he spoke them Brennus said, "Your reactions… I have never experienced anything like them. You are susceptible to even the most mundane of actions… You intoxicate me. I fear every moment to lose myself in the sound of your voice."

"_You_ fear to lose _your_self?" Phendrana echoed incredulously, his voice thick with desire, and Brennus's only real reply was a soft and somewhat maniacal chuckle as he lowered his head once again and dipped his tongue into the indentation of the doppelganger's navel. This proved to be something Phendrana was both not expecting and ill prepared for; his fingers twisted into the quilt as though he was desperate to keep himself rooted to the world that he knew, and his hips jerked upward involuntarily. Brennus ran a hand up the doppelganger's flank and pressed his palm firmly down upon Phendrana's chest in an attempt to keep him still, lazily drawing circles around his navel with the tip of his tongue until Phendrana was begging him to relent. "Ahhh… No more, please…"

Brennus snickered, pleased with the doppelganger's reactions and the fine sheen of sweat beading upon his slightly-heaving chest. "You wish me to leave you in such a state? Alas… I could never presume to treat you so cruelly, Phendrana. Though it would seem you have little patience for my teasing… Shall I ease your suffering?"

And with an air of reverence he tugged one end of the sash loose, thus fully untying the bow, and brushed the offending fabric of Phendrana's shift aside. With Phendrana so exposed Brennus trailed the fingertips of his dominant hand from the doppelganger's still-damp navel, across his hip, and down his thigh before encircling Phendrana's arousal with his fingers and giving it a firm but gentle squeeze.

The reaction he received was overwhelming – Phendrana's back bowed and he cried out so loudly that he clapped his own hands over his mouth in a feeble attempt to stifle the sound. His eyes were wide and unseeing, his lips forming an irresistible O shape, his hands clutching his own head as though he was teetering on the brink of madness -

The Twelfth Prince swallowed hard past the lump of pure desire that had arisen in his throat and pumped his hand expertly once, and it was almost more than Phendrana could stand. Though Brennus inherently enjoyed putting his partners through an excruciating session of teasing and torment that left them almost blind from pleasure he couldn't help but pity Phendrana, so innocent in the ways of seduction and so foreign to the sensations assailing him, and his plans of taking his time and building the tension up to a mind-shattering crescendo all but dissolved with the onset of his sympathy. He stilled his hand just long enough to reassure the doppelganger then, speaking in a soft but sensual undertone: "I will end your tortures quickly this time, Phendrana, but next time… Next time you will not be so lucky, for next time I do not intend to be so merciful."

Phendrana had no time to ask just what Brennus meant by that, for in the next instant the prince's hand tightened and began to move at a steady but demanding pace; waves of pleasure crashed over the doppelganger with every stroke, pleasure so intense that it seemed every nerve in his body had caught fire and burned as hot as the candle still blazing on the loremaster's desk. An insistent feeling of pressure built in the pit of Phendrana's stomach and mounted with each clever flick of the prince's wrist, and though a part of him wanted to endure the sensations for as long as he could manage another part of him knew that he could stand little more for he was mortal, so helplessly mortal, and the peak of pleasure was a mountain quickly and easily scaled.

As he balanced there on the precipice of sensations he had never experienced, sensations that threatened to annihilate his sanity with each passing second, Brennus's voice reached him from somewhere that seemed very far away and served as the catalyst for the release he so desperately sought. "Don't fear what you feel, Phendrana. Give in to your pleasure… Give in to me."

He might have been able to withstand the prince's skilled touch, but Phendrana knew he could never hope to resist the velvet seduction of the prince's voice. The dark, commanding tone coupled with the dominant nature of the words tipped the scales against Phendrana, and from the peak of his pleasure he suddenly found himself plummeting downward into a fathomless abyss of ecstasy; his muscles clenched and refused to relax, his throat was raw from his cries but he could no longer hear his own voice, but somewhere within the descent into incoherency he thought he heard Brennus laughing appreciatively and this only served to prolong the experience.

At the perceived bottom of the proverbial mountain he had scaled all too quickly Phendrana dimly perceived the moment when his body began to loosen, heard the minute shift of the mattress as Brennus curled up beside him, and though his abdomen was damp with his release he couldn't find the strength within himself to attend to it. The prince may have wiped a bead of sweat tenderly from his brow then, and perhaps spoke a few words of reassurance as he gathered the doppelganger in his arms, but Phendrana's hold on consciousness waned quickly and suddenly he lost his grip on it.

In the near-darkness of the room Brennus could only find it in himself to be grateful that his words seemed lost on Phendrana, for upon instant consideration he realized just how absurd and sudden they may have sounded. He glanced begrudgingly at the candle still flickering stubbornly upon his desk with half a mind to get up and put it out properly, but Phendrana moaned his name in his sleep and Brennus resolved instead to let the flame burn out in its own time.


	7. Three Steps From Redemption

The dreamless sleep that came to Phendrana was perhaps the most restful he had ever known, and made it that much more difficult to rouse himself the next morning. His awareness of his surroundings came back to him in small doses as he struggled to wake; his auditory senses returned first, and dimly he perceived the sounds of fine china clattering on the ground floor and the faint sounds of the voices of passerby as they traversed the streets of the Circle. Next he felt the thing his head rested upon rise and fall rhythmically and supposed that perhaps it was not a pillow on which he lay; it also seemed that what encircled him was not a blanket, and so with difficulty he pried his eyes open. He vaguely recognized the room he was in, but his mind had yet to catch up with his eyes and so he took stock of himself instead; the shift he wore was slightly wrinkled but otherwise pristine with the sash knotted around his waist, but there were a pair of shadowy arms holding him firmly and he glanced up in a mild state of alarm. Hovering over him with a smile of adoration upon his lips, his bronze eyes the consistency and warmth of molten sunshine, was Twelfth Prince Brennus; the loremaster chuckled beneath his breath in such a way that Phendrana felt the vibration through the prince's chest, and as memories of last night's illicit encounter came flashing back to Phendrana with startling clarity he felt his cheeks heat up with blush.

Brennus extended one dark-skinned finger and traced the faint red tinge in one of the doppelganger's cheeks with a tenderness Phendrana hadn't known him to possess. His voice was full of satisfaction when he murmured, "Good morning."

"H-How long was I asleep?" Phendrana stammered, struggling to base his thoughts strictly in the present and cease from dwelling on the particulars of the night before.

"Nearly ten hours. You barely stirred after I cleaned you up." Brennus's smile widened and he pressed his lips briefly to the doppelganger's forehead, adding, "I checked your pulse a few times during the night to reassure myself that your heart had not stopped."

The idea that the prince had tended to him while he slept made Phendrana feel both flattered and guilty, for surely Brennus wasn't in the habit of attending to anyone – least of all a man of such low import. He brushed his guilt aside quickly, though, and took full advantage of the prince's affectionate tendencies by turning over onto his side, draping one arm low across Brennus's waist and nestling his head against the prince's bare ebon-skinned chest, saying, "How odd. Normally I am wakeful."

"I am hardly surprised," Brennus observed, a smug smile in his voice. "You were heavily exerted last night."

The memory of the shade's voice murmuring words in that smooth as silk, dark as midnight timbre, coupled with Phendrana's too-clear recollection of the prince's hand stimulating his yearning flesh sent a fresh shiver of pleasurable anticipation singing along his veins; he turned his head and brushed his lips along the smooth, taut skin of Brennus's chest. Brennus exhaled contentedly and allowed the doppelganger to offer up such affections, and had set to stroking Phendrana's shoulder blades with the tips of his fingers when Phendrana asked, "Was that truly the extent of your mercy?"

Brennus's voice was territorial, something that brought to Phendrana both pride and trepidation. "I am a man of my word, Phendrana. The next time you lay before me your pleas for clemency will fall on deaf ears. Whether it pleases me to keep you here for an hour, or two, or ten… Whether I take your pleasure from you once, or five times, or thirty… You will have little choice but to oblige me. Though rest assured, you will find no reason to protest my machinations."

Phendrana lifted himself up onto his elbows and crooked an eyebrow in curiosity. "This arrangement sounds more and more one sided the longer you continue to divulge your plans. Nowhere in this mandate of yours do I hear mention of _your_ pleasure – something I still fully intend to take from you."

The corner of Brennus's mouth twitched upward into a smirk – he was bemused and a little skeptical of these words, something that was evident in his almost mocking reply. "You do, do you?"

Something about the previous night's events seemed to have emboldened Phendrana, for at the mention of further sexual exploits he didn't display even the faintest trace of fear; he leaned forward on his elbows and claimed Brennus's lips with his own, one hand running the length of the loremaster's chest before settling upon the slight curve of one hip. It caused him a little dismay to pull his mouth away from Brennus's but he managed it after a moment's hesitation, setting upon the prince's earlobe instead and nipping at the flesh gently with his teeth.

Brennus's head lolled back against the pillows and he uttered a soft, guttural sound in the back of his throat that was part contentment and part desire, his hands clutching the doppelganger's narrow shoulders as he arched his back, and suddenly their bodies were connected from shoulder to waist. "I don't recall such brazen behavior on your part last night."

Phendrana couldn't deny the truth of this claim any more than he could explain the sudden feeling that the blood in his veins had been replaced with electricity; he trailed the tip of his tongue down the side of Brennus's neck to the prince's clavicle as he murmured against the dark skin, "A man can change."

The doppelganger's hands were splayed across Brennus's stomach, inching with agonizing slowness toward the waistband of the wrinkled trousers the prince wore; though the tension in Brennus's body was becoming increasingly more difficult to ignore he still found it in himself to seize Phendrana's hands with his own, in effect stopping the mindmaster's worship of him. Phendrana glanced up, his eyes questioning and perhaps even a little offended, and in response to his deplorable expression Brennus said, "As much as I enjoy your service of me, Phendrana, I feel obliged to tell you that the Doubles Combat will be taking place in little more than two hours' time. Perhaps more pressing than that, though, is the fact that we will presently find ourselves with company. Certainly you don't wish for us to be discovered in such a compromising state?"

He had a point there, Phendrana admitted begrudgingly, for they were now little more than a half-dressed tangled pile of limbs and their appearances would be impossible to explain away. He made a show of nodding his agreement until Brennus released his hands, and then in a movement that was as quick as a lightning strike he seized the prince's wrists in both of his hands and pinned his arms above his head. Phendrana shifted his weight and brought his lips crashing down upon Brennus's in the instant that the loremaster opened his mouth to protest, driving his tongue boldly between the prince's slightly-parted lips and stealing away any words he might have said; as Brennus struggled beneath him Phendrana brought his knee up and gently massaged the shade's groin, putting an end to those struggles and sending a shudder ripping through the prince's lithe body.

Phendrana drew his head back, thoroughly enjoying the expression of undiluted desperation Brennus wore as he labored to draw breath, and murmured, "How presently might we expect this company?"

"I confess," Brennus growled in a strangled voice, rotating his hips once and grinding against Phendrana's knee, "I have quite forgotten."

Phendrana pinned both of Brennus's wrists beneath one of his hands so he could free up the other, and with it he traced the prince's waistline with his fingernail; when he had finished traversing the prince's abdomen from hipbone to hipbone he hooked his thumb in the waistband and gave it a sharp, insistent tug, not quite exposing the prince's flesh but making his intentions inescapably clear. With his teeth grazing Brennus's neck Phendrana muttered huskily, "Come now, Prince… In the short time I have known you, you have never been at a loss for words. Are we expecting company presently, or aren't we?"

It was quite an impressive sight to behold, the Twelfth Prince of Shade helpless beneath him and bucking his hips in a show of wanton desperation now; for Phendrana it was terribly empowering, knowing that he was the one who had reduced the youngest son of High Prince Telamont to such a state. Seeing that the doppelganger wasn't inclined to continue until he had an answer Brennus attempted to master himself, his chest heaving, his brow beaded with sweat. "Quite presently."

"Then it would stand to reason that now is not the most appropriate time for me to worship you?" Phendrana baited, a laugh in his voice, and Brennus's eyes narrowed into slits.

"On the contrary," the Twelfth Prince moaned, "I can think of no better time."

"And our guests?" Phendrana reminded.

"I care not," Brennus growled, and rotating his hips once more he brought his still-clothed flesh into contact with Phendrana's knee and groaned. "Do you see what you do to me? What I have been reduced to? Is this not a shameful state for a Prince of Shade to find himself in?"

Phendrana glanced to the right, to where a few shadows were beginning to solidify upon the balcony, and said, "Perhaps not as shameful as the state we are about to find ourselves in."

Brennus followed Phendrana's gaze with heavy-lidded eyes, and when he perceived just what the doppelganger meant they sprang apart immediately; the Twelfth Prince sucked in a ragged breath in an attempt to compose himself and straightened his trousers, throwing an arm out in Phendrana's direction and hissing a single word: "Go!" The doppelganger turned and fled immediately, flinging the door open and letting it bang closed behind him, and he sprinted down the hall until he reached his own private quarters, refusing in his haste to slow down until he had put two doors between himself and the object of his affections. Safe in the privacy of his own bedchambers he all but collapsed upon his bed, staring up at the ceiling as his thudding heartbeat gradually slowed within his chest.

Presently the voices of the other six wafted up from his subconscious, as though they had been in the room diligently awaiting his return, and though he embraced them readily enough he found that he already yearned to shut them out and return instead to Brennus's company. "Thank you for allowing me some time to myself, friends," he greeted them genially, speaking aloud as though they occupied the room with him.

_We are always happy to oblige you_, said Kiora happily. _Even more so now that we feel just how happy you've become!_

_I trust things progressed favorably for you?_ asked Xanther kindly, and the wash of excitement that was the dominant emotion within Phendrana's mind was all the answer they required.

"I do hope we haven't already been discovered," Phendrana lamented aloud, his fingers fumbling feverishly with the sash that knotted his shift together at the waist. "Do you think that Brennus's guests spied me leaving his company? The Prince has already said that not all of his brothers are sympathetic to his situation…"

_You could not have left the room faster if you had the ability to shadow walk,_ Ristel insisted with a sardonic laugh. _It is highly unlikely that anyone saw you depart._

"Still," Phendrana pressed nervously, "I should like to be quick, and see that all is well with my own eyes."

He deposited the flowing silver shift with its jade green sash upon the bed and hurried to the restroom, where he proceeded to bathe with all haste; when he was assured that he was clean enough to be in the company of others he quickly toweled himself dry before wrenching the doors of his wardrobe open wide. The clothing selection stunned him just as it had the night previous, and as he sifted through the many priceless articles he came across a suit of armor that widened his eyes and nearly stopped his heart from beating. It was constructed of thousands of miniscule interlocking adamantine rings, a very lightweight yet nigh indestructible material that shone like stardust and was impervious to all but the highest quality blades ever forged; the armor set came complete with breastplate, greaves, and vambraces, as well as dark gray leggings with obvious enchantments woven into the fabric. There were a pair of lightweight boots to match imbued with similar enchantments and made of a supple fabric with adamantine-plated toes; the breastplate was inset with golden filigree, and fit him as though it had been custom made. He gazed with wonder at his own reflection after he had donned the complete set, admiring the armor from every angle imaginable, before belting his weapons onto his hips and hurrying out the door.

* * *

Brennus hadn't imagined that they might have guests, and he was not alone when Phendrana knocked politely on the door before admitting himself. By that time the morning meal had been served, and both Fourth Prince Aglarel and Seventh Prince Dethud were sitting around the dining table in the corner of the room and helping themselves to the food; Aglarel was hunched over his plate with his features concealed as always, clad in his assassin's garb with his cowl pulled low over his face, and Dethud looked up as the doppelganger entered and nodded once in a kind of wordless salutation. Brennus appeared just a moment later, dressed in a set of senior arcanist's robes that emanated powerful enchantments the likes of which Phendrana had never known, and offered the doppelganger a sly wink before joining his two brothers at the table. If Phendrana wondered at the presence of the other two shades, perhaps the most soft-spoken of all the Most High's sons and in no way prone to seek any type of social contact, he wasn't made to wonder for long.

"You cannot deny that this is most irregular," said Dethud in a soft voice, and though he had a small plate of food in front of him it appeared as though he hadn't eaten a bite. Phendrana hadn't the faintest clue just what Telamont's necromancer son could possibly be referring to, and so he took a seat between Brennus and Aglarel without a word and silently accepted the glass of water Brennus passed him; at first it seemed no one would respond, but then Brennus shifted in his chair with the slightest hint of agitation in his features.

"Perhaps," the loremaster conceded, "but _you_ cannot deny how completely things have changed here. Seventeen centuries ago we knew nothing of the Shadow Weave – its foreign magic may have eliminated all that remained of the Netherese Imperium had we not embraced it and adapted to its ways. The High Prince took in an elf who knew far too much to be kept alive and succeeded in molding him into one of the greatest weapons Thultanthar has ever known; hundreds of years later he did the same, and changed a little waif of a girl into not only a loyal mountebank, but the future First Princess of the City of Shade. Now we are on the verge of assimilating our first ever doppelganger into our society, and he will be the first of his kind to ever become a shade. What I mean is this: the very definition of the Tanthul Empire has changed over time, brother. Is it really so unprecedented to think that the Archmistress will inevitably become a part of our society as well?"

"She is untrustworthy," Dethud protested immediately. "She works to achieve her own ends, and nothing else. She cares not at all for the glory and advancement of Thultanthar."

For perhaps the first time since he had chosen to inhabit the City of Shade, Phendrana actually heard Fourth Prince Aglarel laugh; it was a soft, low, raspy sound that barely shook his shoulders as it was uttered, made all the more ominous by virtue of the fact that his face was hidden beneath his ever-present cowl. The tiny hairs at the nape of Phendrana's neck stood on end, and he couldn't suppress a small, involuntary shudder as Aglarel spoke. "Am I to understand that you hold the rest of the members of the High Prince's Shadow Council in the highest esteem? Because if you mean to say that you trust the Archmistress less than, shall we say, Hadrhune, I will have to insist that you are a liar."

Dethud bristled, which in itself surprised Phendrana for he had always thought the Seventh Prince to be one of the most even-tempered of Telamont's progeny. "I _do_ happen to trust in Hadrhune's integrity quite a bit more than Aveil's, and for the life of me could never imagine why anyone would ever choose to think differently."

"Then I confess that I am of the opposite opinion," Aglarel admitted mildly, and though Dethud opened his mouth to protest vehemently the Fourth Prince overrode him by saying, "for Archmistress Arthien is mortal, and I know what to do with mortals who betray the trusts of the Princes of Shade."

"No one is foolish enough to betray the Princes of Shade," Dethud countered with an impatient wave of his hand, "for no one is foolish enough to believe that they could accomplish such a ridiculous thing without facing the severe repercussions of such a decision – especially not Aveil Arthien, who knows better than most just how merciless our retribution can be."

_Now what can he possibly mean by that, do you think?_ mused Alax curiously, but when Phendrana opened his mouth to ask just that Brennus suddenly reached beneath the table and gripped the doppelganger's knee with one of his hands in a kind of wordless warning that he would do well to keep such inquiries to himself. So he merely sat back and watched as Seventh Prince Dethud regarded his older brother with something akin to open hostility, as all the while Aglarel gazed steadily back with a most uninterested expression on his face.

Presently the Fourth Prince condescended to offer his rebuttal. "I do hope that the rest of the High Prince's younger sons are not so naïve as you seem to be on this matter, my dear brother."

"How dare – !" Dethud began to protest, leaping from his chair, but Brennus flashed him a glare of disapproval that the necromancer felt compelled to heed, and as he stood there practically emanating animosity Fourth Prince Aglarel dabbed gently at his lips with a napkin and vacated his chair with a much greater measure of composure; his eyes beneath the hood of his cowl shone the deceptive shade of a moonless night.

"I suppose you will see just how wrong your idealistic claims really are soon enough," Aglarel promised in a sinister undertone. "For now, though, I haven't the time to educate you further on the matter – I must prepare myself. Battle will be joining within the hour… I suggest you all prepare yourselves as well." Then Telamont's mysterious assassin son took his leave of them, dissolving into his own shadow and spiriting himself away to some unknown location; Dethud exhaled sharply through his nose as though he disapproved highly of his older brother's behavior before quietly thanking Brennus for the meal and following suit.

Brennus seemed to remember then that he was clutching Phendrana's knee beneath the table with no small amount of force, and suddenly released his grip as though ashamed of his own actions. The doppelganger lifted an eyebrow in a kind of wordless inquiry, but the youngest prince could only shrug his shoulders.

"On this matter I fear I have no real answer for you," Brennus admitted, taking a polite and thoughtful bite of a fresh pomegranate. "As far as I am aware Aveil's dealings with the City of Shade run no deeper than the few times that she met with both Hadrhune and Aglarel to prepare special arrangements between the Citadel of Assassins and my brother's own personal designs, of which I can only speculate. If she has been in further and more recent contact with any of my brothers, I have no knowledge of it… And as far as being reprimanded for deceiving the agents of Thultanthar in the past… Well, I am under the impression that she never has been, but I daresay I am not omniscient. Perhaps Aglarel's insinuations hold some measure of truth to them."

The prince's eyes remained fixed carefully upon his plate as he chewed with exaggerated care, prompting Phendrana to pursue the topic a little further. "What is it about what Prince Aglarel has said that troubles you so?"

Brennus spared an indulgent smile for himself before dropping his half-eaten fruit back onto his plate. "You will be privy to all of these secrets very soon, so I see little point in keeping you in the dark any further… Very well. Though the Princes of Shade all entertain private agendas which they guard with a diligence that often borders on paranoia, Aglarel is perhaps the most secretive of us all. Do you know that he often operates as the Most High's personal assassin, as well as the captain of the Most High's personal bodyguard?" When Phendrana shook his head the loremaster continued, saying, "I am hardly surprised. Perhaps it is all on account of his type of employ, but Aglarel is indisputably the most enigmatic of my kin. He reveals little, and is more often than not a witness to dealings that otherwise occur beneath our notice – such is the nature of his bond to the High Prince."

Phendrana was nodding along as his six friends whispered conspiratorially amongst themselves in the quieter crevices of his subconscious mind. "So you think that perhaps he knows more of the Archmistress than we do?"

"There can be no doubt," Brennus concluded. "I will be most curious to see just what he has gleaned, if that information is ever to become public within the Shadow Council, and even more interested to see how Hadrhune receives the news that Aglarel is better informed as to Aveil's designs than he is. By now you have seen for yourself just how jealous a man Hadrhune can be, just as you know that he is not opposed to warring openly with the Most High's sons when he feel that he has been wronged… But enough of that for now. We are short on time, and you have eaten far too little of your food for my liking."

The mindmaster offered up a sheepish shrug of his shoulders and a guilty grin, saying, "I seem to have lost my appetite… Circumstances change so quickly here. I find it difficult to keep track at times."

"That they do," agreed Brennus with a soft chuckle, and with his eyes still firmly fixed upon the doppelganger's face he settled back into his chair and lifted his hand to his mouth, and flicking his tongue out he licked the first droplet of pomegranate juice from his fingertips. Phendrana watched this with avid interest as he grew steadily more uncomfortable in his chair, until the Twelfth Prince determined that his fingers were clean and he mercifully lowered his hand. "Has your appetite perhaps returned to you?"

"A bit," said Phendrana in a hoarse sort of voice, "but I do not find myself hungry for food."

Brennus smiled slyly and vacated his chair, rounding the table to stand close to the place where Phendrana sat, and leaning down he braced his hands upon the back of the chair and tipped it back; Phendrana craned his neck, his lips searching, and with a bemused cackle the loremaster tilted his head forward and gave the doppelganger what he wanted. The prince's lips were sweet and tart with the last of the pomegranate juice, and that coupled with his ever-present and otherworldly scent made Phendrana wonder if he was drinking the food of the gods every time he kissed the shade. Presently Brennus drifted back, though somewhat reluctantly, and brushed his still-damp fingertips compassionately across the doppelganger's face.

"Unfortunately I cannot oblige your desires now," said the loremaster somewhat begrudgingly, "for Lux is approaching now and the hour of the Doubles Combat draws near."

"How do you know such things?" marveled Phendrana, shifting in his chair to compose himself, and Brennus merely smiled.

"When you have surrendered your mortal soul and come into possession of your very own shadow orb, you too will possess such abilities," the prince assured him, and in the next moment the reserved young Shadovar boy called Lux had admitted himself into the loremaster's private quarters and bowed low.

"Forgive my intrusion," he greeted them placidly, "but I must remind you that the Doubles Combat will begin in precisely one quarter hours' time."

"You are a great comfort to us both," said Brennus fondly. "Thank you, Lux. We will depart at once."

* * *

They were among the last to arrive in the inner sanctum of the Hall of the Arts Martial; only Fifth Prince Clariburnus, it seemed, was not among them. It was almost uncomfortably dark within the vast chamber in which they stood, but Phendrana was of a race accustomed to the lightless underground and felt his eyes adjusting almost at once; after half a minute he could clearly see that the Shadow Council members that had gathered were neither standing companionably together or talking amicably amongst themselves. The air was saturated with something more akin to hostility than anything else, so potent that it sent an unwelcome chill coursing down the doppelganger's spine. He reached his mental influence out almost tentatively as he sought Brennus's familiar and somehow calming thoughts, and found that he was mildly surprised by the way that the Twelfth Prince received him – almost as though he had been awaiting him all the time.

_I do not understand_, was all poor flustered Phendrana could manage to say.

_I was certain you would respond this way,_ Brennus answered with a brief chuckle, _but you needn't be concerned. This is typical pre-Combat behavior. Often they are considering how to proceed, and normally my oldest brothers are deep in thought as they decide who best to choose to partner them. _

_Do they not choose one another? _Phendrana asked confusedly. _The highest ranked with the next-highest, and so forth?_

_Our rank has only to do with our age_, the loremaster explained patiently, _and is in no way a reflection of our abilities – the number that precedes each of our names signifies the order of our birth, and nothing else. They choose their partner based on many factors, including who they believe might best compliment their own abilities, but there are some among us whom you can guarantee will never be partners. Escanor and Hadrhune have long harbored a deep-seeded hatred for one another, and that animosity is something that they are rarely willing to set aside._

_And… we can… trust our partners?_ Phendrana asked haltingly, hoping that Brennus wouldn't view such a question as an affront to the Tanthul family's integrity.

Fortunately the loremaster was very understanding. _Oh, implicitly. You may be chosen by someone whom you don't know very well, but they will do their very best to protect you and expect you to do the same for them. In addition to slaking our ever-competitive natures, this competition also serves to fortify the bonds we share with one another._

Any questions Phendrana may have had left went unanswered then, for the great doors leading into the inner sanctum opened to admit Fifth Prince Clariburnus; as he shut the doors behind him his eyes darted swiftly around the room – performing a brief head count, Phendrana supposed – before approaching them and saying, "Classes have begun and the senior commanders have been placed in charge of overseeing the lessons for the day – without any further ado, let us commence. Escanor?"

The First Prince wasted no time, turning to Soleil and bowing low. "My lady, if you would grant me the honor."

"Prince, the honor is mine," said the mountebank in a tone of supreme and utmost pleasure, and stepping smoothly out of the line that had formed near the door she joined Escanor with one hand resting easily upon the pommel of her falchion.

Second Prince Rivalen moved a few steps forward, his eyes perusing the line of possible allies waiting to be chosen, but he too did not consider his decision for long. "Rapha."

The Tenth Prince, by all accounts a supremely gifted hexblade and something of a devil with the enchanted katana he always carried, nodded as though pleased with the lot that had been offered to him; Phendrana shuddered delicately as Brennus said, _An unsurprising alliance, really. Rivalen and Rapha get along quite well most of the time, and as a cleric first and foremost Rivalen stands to gain much from enlisting the aid of a hexblade._

Third Prince Lamorak chose next. "Melegaunt."

Phendrana wasn't sure what to make of that pair, for of the Princes of Shade he knew perhaps the very least of Eleventh Prince Melegaunt, so it was fortunate that Brennus offered his insight on that turn of events. _This is a wise choice for Lamorak. As the head of the Determinist's Guild his abilities are primarily arcane in nature, and though Melegaunt boasts a similar skill set it is his knack for trickery that makes him a most valuable asset. He is a most gifted wielder of abjuration magic – often he focuses his energy more on fortifying his partner until said partner is too strong to be defeated. For if the victory is a shared one, why not?_

The doppelganger conceded the point, secretly grateful that Brennus was willing to provide him with such useful information, but he was yanked most unceremoniously from his thoughts when Fourth Prince Aglarel chose a most unexpected partner: "Archmistress Arthien, if you would."

It seemed foolish for him to ask her permission, for as both a non-shade and a non-council member Aveil would never dream of refusing; she drifted out of line rather haughtily, though it seemed to Phendrana that perhaps the faintest tinge of warring emotions, both guilt and delight, marred the expression a little. The doppelganger risked a sidelong glance in Hadrhune's direction, only to find the seneschal looking just as ill-tempered as usual.

Brennus had little to say regarding Aglarel's choice. _Peculiar… most peculiar._

The choice fell then upon Clariburnus, who clapped his hands together almost gleefully when he said, "Excellent! Phendrana! It would please me very much if you joined me."

Phendrana stumbled out of his place in line, the tips of his fingers and toes tingling with an uncomfortable sort of numbness – borne, no doubt, from his shock at not being chosen last. He could feel Brennus's thoughts becoming more and more mutinous with every step that he took away from the loremaster, and though he did feel a certain measure of guilt Phendrana couldn't help feeling monumentally pleased; Fifth Prince Clariburnus was a good man, he knew, and one of the most skilled warriors he had ever seen wielding a blade of any kind. As he drew level with the leader of the Army of Shade, Clariburnus smiled companionably back at him and even clapped a reassuring hand down upon one of his narrow shoulders.

"Dethud," said Sixth Prince Yder

Phendrana thought nothing of the choice until several voices shouted in almost perfect unison, "You fool!"

_I don't understand!_ Phendrana cried. _What did he do?!_

_It isn't what he did,_ Brennus responded in dismay, _but what he didn't do._

In the next instant Phendrana came to understand, for twin princes Mattick and Vattick crowed victoriously and clasped their hands together in celebration. As close as two Princes of Shade could possibly be, Mattick and Vattick were seldom apart and knew one another astonishingly well; additionally they were incredibly talented illusionists, and knew without asking just how to complement one another in any given situation.

"And now I am sure to win," Brennus chuckled beneath his breath somewhat malevolently, and Phendrana wasn't sure what reason the Twelfth Prince had to be so assured of his victory until it occurred to him that Brennus was automatically paired with the last available combatant – Hadrhune, a shadow sorcerer whose talents rivaled those of the High Prince himself and whose ruthlessness was unparalleled. The moment Hadrhune closed the distance between himself and his newfound ally a thrill of real trepidation brought to Phendrana a sudden chill, for here, he knew, were two men whose combined abilities would be a formidable force against any adversary. He was afforded a precious few seconds in which his keen mind memorized each individual pair, and then Escanor spoke.

"Very well," said the eldest of Telamont's sons. "One minute. Gather yourselves."

_Now you would do well to shut me out of your mind,_ said Brennus solemnly, _for you can be certain that if you do not, I will use your thoughts to my advantage. Fight well_.

Phendrana wrenched his mental influence out of the Twelfth Prince's mind hastily as all around him the shades were melting into the deep shadows of the inner sanctum – bound, he suspected, for more defensible positions or niches that boasted a tactical advantage of some sort; Clariburnus clamped one hand down upon Phendrana's wrist and made with all speed for the Shadow Realm, dragging the doppelganger alongside him. They moved with purpose – Clariburnus seemed to have a destination in mind, for which Phendrana was nothing but grateful – and just before they re-entered the Material Plane Phendrana had the presence of mind to seek out Clariburnus's consciousness, for he thought it most unwise to speak aloud for fear they would be overheard and discovered.

_Have we some sort of plan?_ he asked.

Clariburnus tugged them through a trans-dimensional seam that separated the two planes with which the shades seemed so familiar, and they found themselves standing upon one of the walkways that lined one of the oversized stalactites protruding from the ceiling; the Fifth Prince shrank back away from the edge and flattened himself against the rock face, motioning for Phendrana to do the same. _The plan is always the same – outlast the others. If even one of us survives then the both of us win… My skill, as you well know, rests in the strength of my arm._ Clariburnus unsheathed his weapon then, a masterfully-crafted and heavily-enchanted glaive, and smiled at the doppelganger as he brandished it before him. _It is fortunate that we are partners – I would be hard pressed to take down the more brilliant spellcasters among us on my own with my weapon alone, and you would have much difficulty against Escanor, Rapha, and Soleil, who are all very skilled swordsmen. We will be better served sticking close to one another as opposed to separating, and covering one another's weaknesses when battle joins in full. How long does it take you to take on the likeness of one of your friends?_

_The change is instantaneous, _Phendrana explained. _I have only to feel inclined to do so, and I will change._

_Then keep them always at the forefront of your thoughts – doubtless you will need them as we progress._

From somewhere deep within the vast cavern there came the sound of a tinny whistle being blown, and then all became suddenly and eerily silent. As if to assure himself that they were still there Phendrana reached into his own subconscious, pleased when he felt six intimately familiar presences embrace him. In one of the nearly lightless tunnels not so far from where the pair of them stood waiting a man's voice shouted, and almost immediately there followed the sound of blades clanging together; Phendrana glanced sidelong at his partner and raised an eyebrow, but Clariburnus shook his head almost at once.

_It would be most unwise to engage in a battle already in progress… the margin for error is too great._ Clariburnus had his eyes upon the ground below where a shadow was materializing, and he nodded to point it out. _Though I do think we should drop in on whomever it is that has wandered too close._

After a moment the shadow solidified into the shape of Sixth Prince Yder, who dropped immediately into a defensible crouch and lifted his chakra; Clariburnus's smile widened and he slid a little nearer to the edge with his glaive clutched in both hands.

_Wait a moment,_ he bade Phendrana. _Allow me to see if I can gain us an early advantage here._

Phendrana extended his arm as though he considered this the best course. _At your leisure._

Clariburnus crept to the very edge of the platform that lined the great stalactite upon which they stood, the toes of his black glass boots jutting over the precipice as he bent at the knees to spring; with his glaive clutched stabbing style in front of him he uncoiled the muscles in his legs as quickly as a snake snaps its body to strike, and he glided toward the ground as silently as a ghost with his violet cape billowing out behind him. Phendrana watched with wide eyes as his comrade neared their first adversary, and by all accounts it seemed he would eliminate his younger brother easily with a single stroke –

At the last possible moment Yder seemed to sense that he was being preyed upon, and he lunged to the left in a show of utter desperation; the fine-edged point of Clariburnus's glaive struck the roughly-hewn stone floor underfoot but such was the mastery of its craftsmanship and the strength of the enchantments woven into the weapon that it did not even chip upon the impact. Yder regained his feet most gracefully and returned his chakra to its defensible position, though judging by his suddenly sour expression he wasn't at all pleased to find that he was now facing the supreme commander of the Army of Shade in single combat.

Phendrana was quite taken aback in the next instant, for he was well acquainted with Fifth Prince Clariburnus and the warrior's penchant for quick wit; instead of sparing a joke for his younger brother's ineptitude or momentary lack of vigilance he simply hefted his glaive and charged in with no sense of mirth upon his face. As he looked on Phendrana watched as Yder grasped his chakra at the pommel with both hands and all but broke it in two, but at second glance the doppelganger realized that the weapon was really two and he had been masquerading it as one all along. In the near darkness of the cavern the two black glass weapons clanged together as Clariburnus finished his swift approach, and then the two were dancing around one another in a truly terrifying display of ferocity. Phendrana spared a few seconds while his partner was occupied with their enemy to retreat into his own subconscious where his six friends, no strangers to battle in their lifetimes or afterward, were eagerly awaiting him.

_It would take little effort to infiltrate the prince's mind,_ Ristel suggested slyly, _while he is so indisposed fighting Clariburnus. Doubtless his focus is solely upon avoiding every stroke…_

The doppelganger conceded the point easily, for this was true of most beings who relied heavily upon physical strength alone, and would have heeded the water genasi's suggestion - in the next instant, though, a well-placed delayed fireball erupted at his feet. The searing heat drove Phendrana out of hiding, and as he was floundering within the clouds of ash and smoke he instead took the only course of action that made any sense to him – he stumbled to the edge and leapt. He was afforded a brief glimpse of a third shade approaching the battle between Clariburnus and Yder through streaming eyes – the necromancer, Seventh Prince Dethud, whose eyes were fixed victoriously upon the form of the falling doppelganger, doubtless preparing a spell that would take him out of the competition.

But he, like most people, had grossly underestimated Phendrana's skill in battle.

As he fell Phendrana twisted in midair to face his adversary head-on, and when his true form suddenly took on the likeness of gloaming Zerena Desini the smug smirk upon the necromancer's face vanished without a trace; Zerena flexed her heavy black wings and allowed the reverse momentum to keep her aloft, and as she all but hovered in place the spell that was meant to put an end to him – a well placed bone blight spell, Ristel was quick to inform him – streaked harmlessly past Zerena's feet and winked out of existence when it struck the side of the hanging stalactite. The gloaming then summoned her enchanted harp into her hands and set her faintly-luminous fingers upon the strings, and lifting her deadly angel's voice she sang and played the sweet burning refrain known only to the near-extinct seekers of the song.

The cone of fire that erupted as a result of her melody was so intense in heat that Yder and Clariburnus had no choice but to leap apart; Dethud was so close to the flames that he stumbled out of the blast zone with his robes hanging from his body in singed tatters, and his face and hands shone with severe burns. Rather than alighting upon the ground and putting herself at risk from both Dethud and Yder the gloaming beat her wings fiercely once, gaining a few feet of elevation so that she could continue attacking from a safe distance. As Yder and Clariburnus met one another in combat once again Zerena struck up yet another piece of seeker music, and the ballad of agony reborn seared through the air toward Dethud gaining speed with every passing moment –

The necromancer had little difficulty avoiding the spray of acid and stepped aside easily, but Zerena hadn't meant the spell to strike him directly and so paid this little heed; the acid coated the floor at his feet and in large patches all throughout the chamber, and though it caused no one any real harm it accomplished precisely what Zerena had meant it to – it separated Dethud and Yder from one another, so that the lines of combat were very clearly drawn.

"Clever," Dethud offered darkly, just as Clariburnus scored a hit on Yder that tore the shade's torso open so wide that two of his ribs were visible within the billowing clouds of ever-present shadow surrounding him. As Yder was beginning to fail to pace his older brother in single combat Dethud played his hand; he first conjured two spectral, skeletal hands from nothingness, flexing his own fingers to ensure that they mirrored his movements, and then began whispering the trigger phrase to yet another spell –

_Trouble,_ hissed Ristel tersely. _You must stop him now, Phendrana, or I fear you will lose the advantage._

As Zerena struck up a third tune Phendrana stabbed his mental influence into Dethud's mind, unsurprised when he met a considerable resistance and was at first repelled; with his concentration so vested in two different things the spell Zerena was casting upon her harp failed in its final syllable, and Dethud seized the opportunity and struck. The two spectral hands drifted ominously through the air; one of them settled upon Yder's shoulder, and his grievous wounds magically knitted themselves and he attacked with renewed fervor; and the other came to rest against the small of Clariburnus's back. The Fifth Prince buckled and almost lost his footing as a wave of excruciating agony washed over him, and as Zerena watched in horror the shade's torso split open as he took on the wounds that had once been those he had inflicted upon his brother.

_Cast again, and quickly, _Phendrana urged Zerena, _for we are nearly out of time. Alax, I need you to eliminate the necromancer._

_With which method? _asked Alax hurriedly, as he leapt into the highly complex network of synapses that comprised Phendrana's central nervous system and prepared to assault Dethud's mind.

_Whichever you deem the most effective in this situation. Clearly the princes are resigned to using any means at their disposal to ensure victory._

Even as Phendrana finished giving his orders the last note of yet another song ended upon Zerena's tongue and fingertips, and it was fortunate that her movements were so timely for had she delayed Phendrana may have lost his partner then. The song of life enveloped Clariburnus with its strong healing enchantments, in effect making the warrior immune to poison and other foreign substances that may have had an effect upon his ability to do battle; this proved to be an ingenious choice as in the next instant Dethud finished his next spell, which coated Yder's chakras in a potent poison as the weapons slashed twin wounds in Clariburnus's left arm. As it was the shade stumbled, but Zerena's well-placed seeker music rendered the poison completely useless.

_Excellent, Zerena,_ congratulated Phendrana. _Alax, go now. It is my turn here._

_Yes, Phendrana,_ Alax said compliantly, and Phendrana felt the familiar feeling of loss wash over him as the cerebrex's presence wrenched itself out of his mind altogether to assault another's.

What made Alax's spell repertoire so impressive was the nature of the magic's origin, for though Alax's study was deeply vested in a wizard's years of diligent reading and memorizing of long lost arcana he drew his power from his vast knowledge of the mind – and the best ways to render that essential organ most fitting to his needs. A well-practiced cerebrex could accomplish anything from activating the portion of the brain linked to a being's aggression to tearing certain thoughts from a person's memory. Alax let his influence fade out of Phendrana's mind the moment the doppelganger pictured his target, the necromancer called Dethud, and borne upon that mental image he drifted out of Phendrana's body and leapt upon his new target's neural pathways. The leap from one nervous system to another was almost completely effortless, requiring no more focus than blinking an eye might use.

Predictably Dethud's mind was a dark and sinister place, though thankfully not as complex as the mind Alax was used to navigating; he encountered no resistance as he dove into the highway of synapses that would lead him into the sensory levels of the brain, for he sensed that the necromancer had allowed his mental defenses to slip in favor of gaining the obvious advantage over the ailing Clariburnus. Once he had arrived at his destination Alax allowed himself a moment to consider how best to proceed, then he reached out a miniscule hand comprised solely of electrical impulses and interrupted the brain's connection with all of the body's motor functions.

The next instant was particularly confusing for poor Clariburnus; one moment his two brothers were bearing down upon him with certain victory shining in their jewel-bright eyes, and the next Seventh Prince Dethud crumpled to the ground and lay absolutely motionless as his body took on a state of full paralysis. Yder cried out and lowered his weapons a fraction as he gazed down upon his brother's body with horror, and as Alax's presence returned to Phendrana's mind the doppelganger resumed his natural form and landed gracefully on his feet between his partner and his adversary and drew his weapons.

_Excellent, Alax! _crowed Phendrana, pleased with the half drow's quick defeat of the necromancer, and he began circling Yder slowly as they perused one another for a clear opening of attack. _Now, friends, how best to proceed?_

_The violet veil,_ suggested Ristel in a tone of dark glee, but Phendrana was quick to dispel that idea.

_In the rare chance that Sixth Prince Yder becomes too careless near the veil, his body could be disintegrated. We cannot run the risk of actually killing one of the High Prince's progeny._ _Anyone else?_

It was Kiora who spoke up next, with a suggestion that much pleased Phendrana. _The prince is growing weary from his wounds, and will not be able to withstand much more of any type of assault. How about the dervish dance?_

Before her family had been killed at the hands of Shadovar captain Leevoth and forced Kiora to take on the role of a fallen paladin to avenge their deaths, she had studied intently in the art of combining dance and combat into a harmonious and deadly whole. The result was a dervish, a warrior whose blades were a part of her dance and whose movements were all but impossible to predict – Phendrana knew from observing the aasimar's many successful battles that once she started dancing, she was less like a mortal and more akin to an unstoppable force of nature than anyone he had ever known.

_Perfect,_ Phendrana agreed. _At your leisure._

Just as Yder was hefting his chakras to begin his first attack maneuver, Phendrana's doppelganger body shifted into the likeness of beautiful yet deadly aasimar Kiora Silvenstorm; the shift alone was enough to give Yder pause, for like most of his brothers he was not at all used to watching the doppelganger change form in his midst. Kiora unstrapped her wicked scythe from the sheath resting against her back and swung the weapon up before her in both hands, and as Yder recovered himself and rushed at her the aasimar rolled up onto the balls of her feet and dodged gracefully to the left, rolling the masterfully-hewn shaft of the scythe over one wrist as she spun a graceful pirouette around him, thus beginning the first steps of her dreaded dervish dance.

Yder's first two strikes were wide as Kiora came out of her pirouette, but he recovered himself quickly enough and rushed back in with his left hand leading; Kiora straightened out of her graceful dancer's spin and dipped down so that the chakra sliced harmlessly over her head, and when her knee hit the floor she used it as leverage to propel the rest of her body up and forward. The second chakra arced down, on track to slash her across the dominant arm, but she worked the shaft of her scythe around in a circle and batted the prince's weapon harmlessly away with a single clever maneuver. Instead of taking the immediate advantage – for both of Yder's weapons had been forced out wide, and he couldn't hope to block – Kiora wisely continued on forward and planted the butt of her scythe upon the ground as Yder went sailing by. Predictably he tripped over the shaft and lost his balance, and she swept the scythe around and batted the back of his opposite knee when that leg took on all of his weight to keep him from sprawling, so instead of keeping his feet the prince fell flat on his face on the ground. Kiora spun fully to face him, and though he put up both of his weapons to defend himself she and Clariburnus each dashed one from his grasp, thus disarming him, and with a clever spinning maneuver Clariburnus set the deadly tip of his black glass glaive against his younger brother's throat.

"Yield," the Fifth Prince demanded in a steely voice, and when Yder wisely nodded assent Clariburnus retracted his weapon and allowed his brother to shadow-walk out of the chamber even as a brilliant shower of orange sparks burst like fireworks overhead.

"Sparks?" asked Kiora, and Clariburnus nodded as he sheathed his glaive.

"Each color represents a combatant who has been eliminated," explained the Fifth Prince wearily. "Yder's color is orange… I suspect you missed Dethud's black sparks going off while you were otherwise preoccupied." Kiora's body shifted then and took on the likeness of the gloaming Zerena then, who struck up her seeker music long enough to fully heal Clariburnus's wounds, and as her dexterous fingers strummed through the familiar notes on her harp yet another shower of sparks erupted overhead, this one crimson.

"Whoever has been fighting Rivalen and Rapha has been at least partially successful," Clariburnus observed thoughtfully, his eyes fixed upon the radiant red sparks as they rained down upon them, "for that means Rapha has been defeated, and Rivalen is now alone."

Having finished her music Zerena allowed Phendrana to recover control of his own body, and the doppelganger sheathed his weapons upon his belt and crossed his arms. "Perhaps he should be our next target?"

Clariburnus shrugged, though his eyes were alive with a malevolent sort of fire that Phendrana had never seen. "He would be hard pressed to deter us both, I must admit… Very well. We shall visit him."

Instead of stealing through the Realm of Shadow they slunk through the wide open chamber as quickly as they dared, until they reached the nearest lightless corridor that would lead them further into the inner sanctum of the Hall of the Arts Martial. Phendrana's eyes adjusted a little more slowly than he was comfortable with, but he stretched his mental influence out and reconnected with Clariburnus's all-too-willing mind so that he could allow his partner to lead him. They stole stealthily through the corridor until Phendrana felt the floor take on a very subtle incline beneath his feet, then the roughly-hewn stone walls widened out and they found themselves in the next cavernous chamber. The ceiling here wasn't nearly as high, giving the atmosphere a bit of a claustrophobic feel, and the cover afforded by their natural surroundings wasn't nearly as favorable.

_Further?_ Phendrana questioned, for Clariburnus was hovering in the entrance to the chamber as if assessing whether or not it would benefit them to continue on.

_Wait a moment,_ the Fifth Prince cautioned him after a moment's contemplation, and he seemed to be listening carefully to something occurring elsewhere; Phendrana pricked up his ears, curious as to what it was that Clariburnus had heard that he had not, and heard the very faint sounds of battle being waged in the next chamber over. The doppelganger stretched his mental influence out in an effort to ascertain the thoughts of those battling nearby, if only to better gauge how far away they were and just who he and his partner could find themselves up against – there seemed to be three of them in all, their simultaneous half-formed thoughts blurring almost incomprehensibly together in Phendrana's mind, and after sifting through them he determined that two of the trains of thought belonged to Escanor and Soleil.

_I am not certain that we are safe here,_ Phendrana warned, sliding a step further into the shadows of the tunnel from which they had come. _Escanor and Soleil are doing battle with someone in the next chamber over, though against whom I cannot determine… the third person's mental defenses are quite strong, and to probe any deeper or with any more force would alert them to my presence. As yet they have no reason to suspect that we are aware of them, but if we linger we put ourselves at risk._

_Doubtless the third person is Rivalen, and my oldest brother and his fiancée are well on their way to eliminating him. _Clariburnus's eyes had glossed over a little, presumably as he considered how best to deal with the matter at hand. _Would it be unreasonable to ask if you can assault them from here, perhaps using your considerable mental facilities?_

Phendrana frowned, though not out of displeasure for such a request – rather, he wasn't confident in his ability to perform the task well enough to eliminate one of their opponents. He felt a wash of apologetic empathy course from Clariburnus's psyche then, and hastened to assuage him. _A reasonable request, and were we waging war with anyone else I would oblige you… however, the mental defenses of the Princes of Shade are formidable even when they are not actively attempting to thwart my intrusions. It is more likely that I will fail in such an attempt, and that our presence will become known._

Clariburnus nodded sagely, but the debate was ended prematurely when suddenly an explosion of deep gray sparks erupted over their heads. _There is little point in deliberating over Rivalen now,_ the Fifth Prince confided, _for he is no longer our concern. Now we must decide if we can contend with the First Prince of the City of Shade and his betrothed, who will prove to be a formidable force indeed._

_Discuss the matter amongst yourselves,_ Phendrana bade his six friends, who huddled immediately together in his subconscious mind as he addressed his partner. _I will contend with Soleil if you might agree to do battle with Prince Escanor. In single combat I will be sorely pressed to keep him at bay._

To Phendrana's surprise, Clariburnus regarded him a little quizzically. _And you believe that you can make quick work of Soleil? Phendrana, I do not intend to sway you from your course, for I respect you and understand that you are a far wiser creature than I, but I pray you – be a little more wary on her account. Soleil may not be a shade, but she is possessed of abilities that many of our number have little defense against. The empathetic link she shares with each member of the Tanthul family alerts her to the goings-on of much that occurs beneath the notice of others, and the ring that allows her to pass through trans-dimensional rifts gifts her with limited teleportation, so to speak. If she senses that Escanor is in danger, she will always be there to thwart his assailant. You will need to be swifter than she if you mean to deter her movements._

These accounts were nothing that Phendrana was not already aware of, for he had seen Soleil at her deadly work on many occasions and respected her role in combat more than perhaps anyone else's. He had long considered her a kindred spirit, for they were both willing to sacrifice much for those whom they served – with that admission recognized, he could honestly say that his respect for her had made him appropriately wary of her capabilities. It wasn't a matter of outrunning her, he knew, but rather outmaneuvering her.

_I am prepared for this,_ he said at length, and though Clariburnus bobbed his shoulders once as though he wondered at the seriousness of Phendrana's reply he shouldered his glaive readily enough, and together they stole through the too-cramped chamber and began closing the distance between them and their unsuspecting quarry.

They did not realize that the element of surprise was not with them until it was far too late.

They were traversing the next mostly-lightless corridor as silently as they could manage, Clariburnus leading the way and Phendrana sticking close behind him, when the doppelganger heard the faint stirrings of surface thoughts in startlingly close proximity to them; he cocked his head to one side as though he hoped to hear the words aloud, a natural impulse to foreign thoughts that wafted through his awareness, before comprehension dawned that they had been deceived. A sensation of real panic knifed through Phendrana's insides as he came to understand just how close to him the thoughts were originating, and then he heard Soleil's most prominent thought as loudly as though she had just spoken it directly into his ear: _"They've made this all too easy."_

Phendrana lurched forward and struck Clariburnus between the shoulder blades with his dominant hand, and aside from a strangled cry that was half surprise and half real anger Telamont's warrior son overbalanced and sprawled to the ground. The doppelganger's other hand had settled upon the hilt of his sheathed elven thinblade, but he hadn't time enough to draw it in his defense before the cruelly curved blade of Soleil's diamond-edged falchion slashed across his back. The stroke wasn't enough to fell him, for it had been meant for Clariburnus and the angle was something less than perfect, but Phendrana barely managed to keep his feet as a wave of agony washed over him. The thinblade was in his hand then and he pivoted around to face the deadly mountebank with a protective snarl that would have given any opponent pause, but his movements were slow and the sensation of blood seeping freely down his back was impossible to mistake.

The falchion stabbed ahead, its wielder fully intending to skewer him with that single stroke and put him out of the competition for good and all, and Soleil may have been successful were it not for Clariburnus. The Fifth Prince hadn't enough time to cause any real damage but he managed to unstrap his glaive and thrust it forward butt-first, and the polished ebony end of the weapon rapped none-too-gently against the mountebank's kneecap. Soleil howled and stumbled, allowing Phendrana enough of an opportunity to twist aside and avoid the jab from her falchion, and as the doppelganger staggered into the roughly-hewn wall of the almost lightless corridor Clariburnus spun the glaive in both hands and brought the weapon's black glass head to bear –

Phendrana sensed more than saw that First Prince Escanor was wading in on Clariburnus's blind side and improvised a meager measure of defense, for he knew that he could never hope to parry any blow from Escanor's mighty greatsword; he flung his non-dominant hand out in the First Prince's direction and let loose a single guttural trigger phrase, an arcane word filled with magical power. The force of his voice sent the hulking prince flying back several feet, his fine boots scraping against the stone underfoot, and though he was still able to complete his stroke with relative ease Phendrana had placed too much distance between the two princes for any harm to come to Clariburnus.

_You must leave this hall!_ Vadania cried from within the recesses of Phendrana's subconscious mind, where she and the others watched the battle unfolding helplessly. _They will mutilate you in such close quarters, and you can hardly see!_

_The adjacent chamber is scarcely any better lit, and I can hardly hope to sneak past them to reach it,_ Phendrana pointed out, grimacing when he attempted to lift his thinblade and his strength failed him. _But there is a way to even the playing field, Alax!_

The cerebrex heeded the call at once, and even as Phendrana felt Soleil bearing down upon him he launched himself into a blind and desperate dodge; that was the moment Alax chose to seize control of the mindmaster's motor functions and transform the doppelganger's body into the body of the half drow. It was like removing a blindfold from his eyes – Alax's part dark elf heritage allowed him to glimpse Soleil thrusting her weapon ahead to run him through. The cerebrex dodged yet again – Soleil hadn't anticipated he could avoid the stroke, and stumbled helplessly past – and drew the only weapon he ever carried on his person from the hidden folds of his spellcaster's robes, a heavily enchanted dagger that gleamed a demonic red in the darkness of the corridor. Soleil's reflexes were impeccable but not quite enough to deliver her from danger, and Alax managed to score a strike that tore open the back of her left arm from shoulder to elbow; the moment the weapon tasted flesh its enchantments were activated, greedily sapping the life energy from the mountebank and feeding the doppelganger's ailing body with the stolen nutrients. Alax breathed a little easier then, for the strike, while somewhat sloppy, was enough to knit the muscles that had been torn in Soleil's opening attack and greatly slow the flow of Phendrana's lifeblood.

Escanor waded back in and hefted his sword to swing, but the corridor was too cramped for him to attack with his full range of motion and his stroke missed its mark; Clariburnus regained his feet and masterfully intercepted the awkward strike with the shaft of his glaive, turning it right over and shoving his oldest brother back several feet before jabbing the weapon ahead. Escanor's answering block was similarly awkward and didn't suffice to put a stop to the blow completely, and the deadly point of the black glass glaive struck one of the vulnerable rivets in the First Prince's breastplate hard enough to puncture the skin.

"_I've got to lure them back into the chamber, or Escanor will be unable to fight properly!" _Soleil thought desperately, and in response to her frantic surface thoughts Alax sidestepped around Clariburnus and closed the distance between himself and the mountebank, not backing down when she took her first aggressive stride toward the entrance to the adjacent chamber from which she and the First Prince had come. Alax learned the error of his judgment in the next moment, however, when Soleil lunged back in with her whirling falchion at the ready; the first of her strokes dashed the enchanted dagger from the half drow's disbelieving fingertips, the second slashed the back of his right wrist and rendered it completely useless, and the third she turned into a thrust that slipped between two of Alax's ribs. There was a brief pinching sensation as Alax attempted to draw breath, followed immediately by the crashing realization that the mountebank had punctured his lung, and then the half drow danced backward for no better reason than to put some much needed space between himself and the black-haired devil that was the Left Hand of the Most High.

"_Did it never occur to you that listening to other's thoughts could be hazardous for you?"_ Soleil thought mockingly, and even as Alax started to inhale he sank to one knee in pain and oxygen deprivation.

_Alax!_ cried Phendrana. _Get out of there! Zerena, he needs seeker music!_

_Stay down! _The echo of Clariburnus's voice wafted through Phendrana's subconscious just long enough to give him pause, and it was fortunate that he heeded the prince or he may have been defeated. As it was Alax tucked his head down against his chest and bowed his shoulders in an effort to make himself as small and unassuming as possible, and with his eyes still forward and his glaive in one hand Clariburnus summoned a throwing knife from his ensorcelled bracer and whipped his arm in a semicircle. The tiny blade whistled over the half drow's head and found its mark in Soleil's breast just beneath her clavicle, stopping her in her tracks, and when Escanor pressed ahead with his sights set on the vulnerable cerebrex Clariburnus hefted the glaive with both hands in a horizontal block that intercepted his older brother's greatsword and stayed the weapon from ever finding its mark.

There was barely a moment to react, but Phendrana's friends were quick to capitalize on it; Alax relinquished control of the doppelganger's body to Zerena, who seized control immediately and molded the willing vessel into her likeness. As Soleil ripped the throwing knife from her bosom and cast it upon the ground – Zerena did not miss the spurt of blood that accompanied the gesture – she swung the falchion in a wild arc with both hands. The gloaming did the only logical thing she could think of then: she beat her powerful black wings once and shot forward, too close for Soleil to retaliate, and using her momentum bowled the mountebank over and tackled her to the ground. As Soleil struggled to free up her arms and bring her blade to bear Zerena wheezed out a quick refrain; the abridged seeker music wasn't enough to heal her body's extensive wounds by any means, but it was enough to mend the tiny puncture in her lung and that had been her only real goal.

_I must separate us,_ Phendrana murmured apologetically into Clariburnus's mind, and he felt the Fifth Prince's begrudging acceptance and chose not to wait for any further reply. Before Soleil had fully recovered Zerena allowed the water genasi Ristel Clearsea to take control of the body they all shared, and scrabbling to his feet Ristel thrust out one hand and cried the activation phrase of one of his favorite spells – the phrase that would erect the blazing red curtain that only an Initiate of the Sevenfold Veil could ever hope to summon. The blistering crimson barrier spanned the length and height of the narrow corridor, and though it cut Phendrana off from his only ally it also separated Soleil from Escanor.

Or so he was foolish enough to believe.

Soleil smirked wickedly as Ristel bore down upon her with lightning crackling upon his fingertips and ran her thumb across the dark stones set in the all-too-familiar band she wore upon her thumb, and in the next instant the mountebank had vanished from sight. Ristel stood there alone, for a moment perfectly horrified as he pricked his ears up for the hint of any sound, and heard quite keenly as in the next instant sounds of battle renewed from the other side of the red veil.

Clariburnus was outnumbered two to one, and all Ristel had accomplished was to cut himself off from his partner!

_Take down the wall!_ Phendrana bellowed desperately, the sounds of clanging steel coupled with Clariburnus's wails of rage and pain searing his every nerve. _Take it down NOW!_

Ristel lips twisted into an unfamiliar syllable as he stammered through the phrase that would dispel the wall, but the last word was mangled upon his tongue as Clariburnus cursed and caused the water genasi to lose his concentration.

"Yield!" growled Escanor, from somewhere beyond the veil.

"You'll have to do better than that if you desire my surrender," snarled Clariburnus in reply, in a wet voice that incited fear in the depths of Phendrana's heart.

_RISTEL!_ roared the doppelganger.

The elemental savant gritted his teeth and repeated the dispelling phrase gratingly, and before the veil had even vanished he felt Phendrana wrenching control of the body's motor functions away from him; Phendrana plunged his non-dominant hand down to his belt, grasped the hilt of his well-polished kukri, and threw the blade end-over-end into the impenetrable darkness.

It was perhaps the most ill-advised thing he had ever done in the heat of battle; later he would curse himself for his recklessness, but in that instant his instincts took control of his movements and overrode his good sense with a feeling of all-consuming desperation. There was a sickening wet _thunk_ as somewhere in the blackness the kukri found its mark, though in whose flesh Phendrana could only guess as his now-empty fingertips twitched with terror; a heavy silence followed the impact, so profound that Phendrana could feel its intangible weight pressing all around him, and then shuffling footsteps failed their owner and a body collapsed heavily upon the ground with a gurgle of protest. Phendrana's heart clenched in his chest as he cast his eyes fearfully skyward –

- In time, miraculously, to glimpse the shower of copper sparks that exploded overhead, symbolizing First Prince Escanor's defeat.

"Clariburnus!" cried Phendrana, suddenly terrified for his partner standing alone in a darkened hallway with the deadly mountebank Soleil in such close proximity. His voice was enough to trigger thoughts of flight in the Fifth Prince's mind and he felt Clariburnus drawing nearer, his distinct warrior's contemplations laced with confusion that could only mean one thing: he had lost their other target. Phendrana opened his mouth to call out to him to be vigilant, but it was no use; before the words had reached his lips he felt a stirring in the narrow hallway that signified Soleil's timely return, and he could just see the outline of both their figures as the mountebank fell upon the Fifth Prince, laying him low with a blow from the pommel of her weapon that rendered him unconscious.

The gout of midnight blue sparks that burst in the chamber was more than enough light to illuminate Soleil's unforgiving warrior's face in all its cruel beauty, and as the artificial light faded it occurred to Phendrana that it fell to him now to eliminate her, for he knew she would not hesitate to put an end to him.

"If I may be so bold as to inquire," Phendrana began in a territorial sort of voice, "I didn't hurt your beloved too much, did I?"

An animalistic snarl tore itself from somewhere deep in Soleil's throat and her face contorted in an almost inhuman way; Phendrana heard keenly the rush of thoughts as she briefly considered lying, but it seemed she had retained enough of her humanity to remain truthful in her response. "The blade found his throat," she divulged as she approached, traces of quiet sadness rimming her unusual yellow eyes. "The throw was masterful… never before have I seen anything like it."

"Is he…?" Phendrana began uncertainly, and his fear must have been evident in his voice for Soleil threw her head back and laughed aloud at his expense.

"Do not worry for him," she chuckled, even as more sparks lit up the fathomless ceiling – white and brown this time, a sure sign that both Lamorak and Melegaunt had been defeated almost simultaneously. "The prince's accelerated healing makes it nearly impossible for him to sustain life-threatening wounds. Already his body has begun to knit itself together. He will be well enough very soon."

"And where does that leave us?" asked Phendrana in a voice saturated with sincerity, spinning the elven thinblade end-over-end as he considered her. "You have eliminated my partner, and I yours. Are we now fated to do battle until one of us yields, as we predicted only yesterday we might?"

"That depends," reasoned Soleil with a negligent shrug of her lithe shoulders. "Will you surrender yourself to me?"

Phendrana spread his hands indulgently, though he felt skepticism mar his own expression. "You know I can't do that. The High Prince is watching, and I suspect he is watching me with great interest. How could I dishonor him by giving myself up, after he has gifted me with so much?"

"Then forgive me if I do not stand aside," Soleil sneered, "and serve as the next stepping stone that leads you to his ultimate favor!"

She raised her magnificent weapon in her defense and dropped into a warrior's crouch, even as Phendrana's keen mind sensed two other shades approaching; he thrust out a hand in her direction in the hopes that he could stay her stroke long enough to assess the change in situation, and when she settled back upon her heels he moved tentatively for the last chamber he and Clariburnus had passed through in pursuit of Escanor and Soleil. Two shadows were solidifying in the shade of one of the towering stalagmites that were almost identical in stature, and as they gained shape and stepped from the Shadow Plane to face them Soleil stepped companionably up to Phendrana's side.

It was the twin illusionists, Eighth Prince Mattick and Ninth Prince Vattick, each clutching an obsidian wand in one hand and wearing the same smile of victory upon their faces.


	8. Four From the Devil's Door

"I think perhaps neither of you truly understand how this competition works," Vattick jested, rolling the wand he held dexterously between his fingers as he surveyed them. "If you wish to converse aloud… Well, don't. You ought to be ashamed of yourself, Phendrana! One of the keenest minds ever to reside within this grand enclave and you reduce yourself to squabbling aloud where anyone might happen upon you. Have you no tact?"

Mattick was rolling his eyes. "If we had proceeded about this quietly, as you yourself have just preached they should have, we could have eliminated them both with little trouble. Perhaps it is you who is tactless, brother."

Vattick snorted in a rather undignified fashion, now balancing the tip of the wand upon the pad of his extended index finger. "I may have relinquished the element of surprise, but I certainly haven't relinquished the advantage. They are both alone – they were contemplating eliminating one another when we arrived, if you recall! Let us then determine how they would prefer to be put down, that we might pursue more battle elsewhere."

"Very well," Mattick sighed. "You two! How would you like to meet your disgraceful demises? Would you like us to stand aside and let you settle your disputes? Or would you prefer to fall together at our hands? Either way, choose quickly. There is better fighting to be found."

Phendrana felt his expression shift to one of quiet anger with every word the twin princes spoke. It was obvious in their tones of voice that they were simply deriving a little enjoyment at his and Soleil's expense, but the knowledge that they were talking down to him touched a little too closely to the doppelganger's pride. He sensed more than saw that Soleil had also bristled at their words, and the knowledge that his immediate adversary was just as incensed as he was gave the clever mindmaster an idea.

"Are you so simpleminded," Phendrana began loftily, pleased when his gentle jibe brought expressions of outrage to both of the illusionist's faces, "that you assume those are the only real options? If the choice is ours I must say I would most enjoy defeating you both – can you not agree, Soleil?"

The mountebank's curious yellow eyes were still glittering with the residual anger brought on by the twin prince's jests, and her hand was tight around the grip of her powerfully enchanted falchion – just what Phendrana had been hoping to see. "At the moment I can think of nothing more enjoyable," she agreed in a steely voice. "Shall we set aside our quarrel for now, then?"

"It seems I have little choice at the moment but to trust you," Phendrana admitted, the nearest to an agreement he could bring himself to offer her.

Abruptly, Mattick and Vattick were furious. "Surely this is a breach in the rules!" cried the latter, crossing his arms angrily across his chest as the wand he still held fired off a stream of warning sparks. "You were assigned partners at the start – both of whom have already been defeated! Surely you cannot form an alliance with whomever you wish!"

"The Most High will never approve!" roared Mattick. "You will both be disqualified!"

They felt then, all four of them, an all-powerful presence enter their minds as they stood there arguing amongst themselves; its familiar dark voice chuckled within their heads as though highly amused with the way things were unfolding, and they all heard keenly the moment when High Prince Telamont murmured his verdict: _"I will allow it."_

Soleil cracked a victorious smile and lifted her blade a fraction higher. "There you have it."

Mattick and Vattick were ever-so-slowly edging away from their adversaries now, trepidation dawning steadily in both of their expressions; Phendrana slid forward a step or two, pacing them, certain now that they were preparing to flee.

"Outrageous," croaked Mattick.

"Appalling," agreed Vattick.

Soleil activated the powerful enchantments bound in her ring and stepped through a trans-dimensional portal – bound, Phendrana supposed, for a more advantageous position – and reappeared barely a half-second later at Mattick's right flank. The edge of her falchion rested against his jugular, a sure winning stroke if she followed through with it – predictably Vattick moved to intervene but Phendrana was faster, dashing the wand from the younger twin's fingertips with a quick little flick of his elven thinblade. Soleil put her lips to Mattick's ear, laughing huskily when she said, "You can surrender or I can bleed you. Which will it be?"

"I will yield," Mattick sighed, disgruntled, and Soleil released him as turquoise and golden sparks erupted high above their heads.

"And you?" Phendrana laughed, brandishing his weapon as Vattick backed away with raised hands. "Will you fight or will you give yourself up?"

Vattick floundered for words, his jewel bright eyes wide and unblinking, and Phendrana stared unthinkingly back as he awaited the illusionist's reply –

_No, Phendrana! Look away!_ wailed Zerena, but by the time the doppelganger registered her words it was already too late for him to act. He sensed sudden movement on his left and turned his head in time to see Soleil swing her falchion, and reacting purely out of instinct in response to her traitorous behavior he swept his thinblade around and slashed open her midsection. The expertly-cast illusion faded from his eyes as the mountebank grimaced and sank to the ground, one arm wrapped around her middle and the other at her side, still clutching the falchion that she had never once lifted in her defense.

The mindmaster leapt away as though the illusionist had stung him and shook his head vigorously to clear the remaining haze of residual magic from his foggy thoughts; Vattick's smile was wide and mischievous, his hands still raised as though he had half a mind to surrender.

"A real wizard has no need for spell components, Phendrana," taunted the Ninth Prince, and with a roar the mindmaster lunged forward with his weapon leading –

_You fool!_ shrieked several of the residents of his mind, but Phendrana could scarcely find it within himself to respond; it felt suddenly as though his brain was disconnected from his body, every movement a surprise even to him, each of his thoughts only half-formed and useless. He watched blearily as his own extremities walked themselves through complex maneuvers that he had no recollection of thinking up, but he knew that Vattick was responsible for the strange interplay of his muscles because the illusionist dodged each one flawlessly as though he had already seen them coming.

"Dance, my little marionette," cooed Vattick mockingly. "Entertain me for a moment before I dispatch you as mercilessly as you dispatched my twin!"

Phendrana wanted desperately to remind his adversary that it was Soleil who had put an end to Mattick, but his tongue would no more obey him than his own limbs; he wanted to tell his friends to aid him, but somehow their consciousnesses had been cut off from his own and communicating with them was altogether impossible. Though his body was capable of movement and his mind capable of thought he had never felt this uncomfortable sensation of total paralysis – it was terrifying and stifling and no matter how he struggled he couldn't roust Vattick from his mind –

It occurred to him in the instant before the battle ended that there had never been an explosion of sparks to signify Soleil's defeat at Phendrana's own hand.

Vattick cried out for seemingly no reason at all and lurched, and all at once Phendrana regained control of every mental and physical function he had been powerless to control before. Glancing down he noticed Soleil had crawled around to the illusionist's blind spot while he had been tormenting Phendrana; she had heaved herself onto one elbow to support her weight and stabbed the vulnerable soft curve of Vattick's knee with the dagger she kept concealed against the small of her back at all times. The severity of the pain had interrupted Vattick's concentration, and Phendrana flexed his fingers around the hilt of his thinblade as though to reassure himself that the action was indeed his own.

With one blade cutting into the cartilage of his knee and another resting against his Adam's apple, there was really only one option for Ninth Prince Vattick. "I yield… Well done. Very well done…"

He slumped to the ground and put his back to one of the stalagmites, grimacing as his body's unprecedented rate of healing set to work mending his mangled knee, and even as Phendrana turned to help Soleil the mountebank collapsed onto her side with a groan of protest. The mindmaster knelt swiftly at her side as turquoise and silver sparks flared to life, followed almost instantly by flashes of brilliant yellow, over the place where Vattick sat resting, his thinblade still clutched unwillingly in his hand.

"Forgive me," he gasped out, feeling unclean and traitorous, for he knew full well that it was the stroke from his own blade that had doomed her. "He instilled within me an illusion… I saw… I thought you were attacking me."

"You should go," sighed Vattick, fishing about in his robes and producing a vial of healing elixir, which he slipped into Soleil's outstretched hand. "It would not do for you to tarry here… The competition is growing thin, and those that remain will make eliminating you their first priority. You are alone, you see."

"He is right," Soleil affirmed with a begrudging half-smile, removing the stopper from the vial with slightly trembling fingers and swallowing the healing elixir in one gulp. "You are the easiest target now. Hide, Phendrana. Consider your next move very carefully before you reveal yourself. You must err on the side of extreme caution now if you are to have any hopes of winning." Seeing that the doppelganger was still hesitant to depart Soleil chuckled and added, "There is nothing to forgive. Such is war."

Phendrana nodded, and scrambling to his feet he made with all speed for the nearest darkened corridor.

* * *

_So it is down to Fourth Prince Aglarel and Archmistress Arthien… Twelfth Prince Brennus and Hadrhune… and you._ Though it was clear in his tone that Ristel was doing his best to be diplomatic and informative, he couldn't completely quell the undercurrent of doubt that resonated in his voice.

Phendrana hadn't gone far. He had returned to the corridor in which Escanor and Clariburnus had both fallen to ensure that his partner bore him no ill will only to find that both princes had long since abandoned the place; the mindmaster had briefly allowed himself to wonder where one went after falling in the Doubles Combat, but supposed those who lost reconvened in the central chamber and bore witness to the rest of the battle using magical means. After that he had slumped in the darkest corner of the hallway he could find and allowed his body to assume the form of Zerena Desini, who had taken to humming her healing seeker music as softly as possible whenever it seemed safe enough for her to do so. All the while the inner sanctum of the Hall of the Arts Martial radiated with a kind of uneasy quiet, a soundlessness so profound it was almost maddening.

_You needn't remind me,_ Phendrana moaned. _It becomes clearer to me with each passing moment just how hopeless this situation seems._

He saw little point in fooling himself, or in placing so much stock in his abilities that he actually deluded himself into thinking he had any chance at winning. It wasn't that he felt so out of his league that resistance was futile – quite the contrary he still fully intended to fight with every ounce of strength that remained in him – it was that his remaining competition terrified him. Fourth Prince Aglarel was like a shadow that even the harshest ray of sunlight couldn't illuminate; he moved with the grace and silence of a deadly snake always poised to strike, and he lacked the moral center and compassion that several of the other Princes of Shade seemed to at least acknowledge. The shadow sorcerer Hadrhune was among the most ruthless men Phendrana had ever known – he recalled the seneschal's battle against the undead Ishka just weeks ago at the High Prince's birthday celebration, and even those recollections made him shudder as he replayed the senseless brutality in his mind. Aveil had lied, manipulated, and stolen her way into every accolade she had ever laid claim to, and Phendrana couldn't for the life of him fathom just where a person with so little regard for humanity chose to draw the line between harmless antics and unforgiveable happenstance. But he was afraid of Brennus perhaps most of all, because he knew that if he met the loremaster face to face in such an arena he would never be able to lift a finger against him and couldn't help wondering if the object of his affections would be as hesitant with a winning blow.

_Soleil was right, _the doppelganger observed at last. _This competition calls for a level of brutality that I must dig deep within myself to find… The problem is that I am not certain I possess that quality. I have always made it a point to wield my blade in the pursuit of righteousness… How can I possibly wield it now, when the thing that so motivates me is nothing more than selfish ambition?_

From within the vast recesses of his subconscious mind, Phendrana clearly heard Kiora scoff as though unimpressed by his words. _What has happened that makes you think your motivations are so selfish? Do not lose sight of the truth of this competition. This is what the Princes of Shade do for sport, Phendrana. They have set themselves so high above most mortal races that pitting their lives against one another has become a game to them._

There was a resounding level of truth to the aasimar's words, but just hearing them complicated matters even more for Phendrana. Not for the first time he wondered what he had been thinking, abandoning the life he had built for himself over the course of several decades on little more than a whim and taking up with the Princes of Shade. He still found their cause to be as valorous as he always had and believed with all his heart that many of the so-called "just" monarchs of Faerun had purposefully transgressed against Thultanthar for an insurmountable period of time, but there was no denying now that he was in far over his head. These men were closer to immortals than any other creatures Phendrana had ever known; they could survive an internal burst of lethal sunlight with little more than a day's worth of fatigue to show for it, they could heal a fatal sword stroke in mere minutes without even a scar left on their skin, and they could fight off armies that outnumbered them fifty to one without ever feeling as though they had lost the upper hand. Why shouldn't this competition feel like sport to them? It must be liberating in a way, he reasoned, having the opportunity to delve into the depths of such unfathomable power when most days it was a struggle to keep such urges in check.

Would it be that way with him? When he surrendered everything that truly made him mortal and bound his existence to the very essence of shadow, would he harbor such all-consuming power?

_Questions for another day,_ Alax broke in brusquely, though there was some unnamed emotion in the cerebrex's voice that made Phendrana wonder if he was similarly burning with curiosity. _For now you must focus. Four of your adversaries remain. How do you find yourself?_

The doppelganger considered briefly before saying the only thing that made any real sense. _Tired._

_Do not be so quick to give yourself up!_ said Xanther bracingly. _Remember, it was _you_ who defeated Seventh Prince Dethud in single combat… You were mostly responsible for the surrender of Sixth Prince Yder, and Ninth Prince Vattick… First Prince Escanor and Soleil both fell at your hand also! You have accomplished much. Are you so willing to give up now?_

_Soleil fell at my hand after agreeing to act as my temporary ally,_ Phendrana reminded them disdainfully, _because I was too weak-willed to resist Vattick's attempt to force me to betray her. Before that she aided me against Vattick, and Clariburnus had a hand in Yder's defeat. Let us not forget that the stroke that felled Escanor could just as easily have defeated my own teammate, for in my desperation I chose not to temper my actions with sound logic… Really, Dethud's defeat is the only one I can claim to be proud of at all._

There was a long, uncomfortable moment following this version of events during which the doppelganger's despair permeated his subconscious, infecting those six other psyches like a disease, but ever-optimistic Zerena said the one thing then that could have improved Phendrana's mood. _Yes, and what a defeat it was! How many men can claim to have overpowered one of the Princes of Shade in single combat? You have already determined that they are nearer to the divines than any other beings in the Realms, and so you cannot belittle this victory, Phendrana. You won fairly and squarely, and the High Prince takes notice of your triumphs, every one!_

The gloaming's words brought the briefest of smiles to Phendrana's face, and they all felt the moment when his demeanor improved significantly; he pushed fervently against Zerena's control over the body they all shared and returned to his natural form when she politely relented, rising noiselessly to his feet and inspecting his person to ensure that he wouldn't be leaving any of his equipment behind. _I will go from here myself, and enlist your aid as need requires, _he told them, and they were pleased to hear that a certain measure of confidence had returned to his tone of voice. _You are right – I have done much today that I should be proud of, and there is no reason why I should doubt my own abilities. If I was not fit to cross blades with such superior beings, I would not be here, would I?_

_No, Phendrana, _reminded Kiora proudly. _You would not be._

So the fleet-footed doppelganger stole stealthily through the mostly-dark, interconnecting passageways that spanned the outer perimeter of the inner sanctum, keeping always to the more discreet areas of the arena so as to avoid being seen. His six friends remained quiet but vigilant, working always to keep him mind clear and devoid of distractions; as he moved Phendrana continuously reached his mental influence out at irregular intervals, searching for coherent streams of thought but always careful not to become overzealous with his machinations. It was especially important that he temper his mindmaster abilities – Brennus knew well that although Phendrana was quite skilled in hand-to-hand combat, the doppelganger's preferred method of battle was to assault his adversaries mentally. Doubtless the Twelfth Prince would have his defenses up, and had already encouraged his partner to alert him the moment he felt his willpower being tested. As much as he hated to admit it, Phendrana knew that to seek out Aglarel and Aveil held the greatest odds for success.

No sooner had he considered searching for them did he stumble upon them, though he chose not to engage them right away; he was about to slink around the corner of the lightless passage he was currently traversing when he thought he heard voices, and though he wasn't altogether certain he hadn't imagined them he still paused and perked his ears up in the hopes of confirming what he already suspected. After a few moments of very careful listening he determined that there really were two people talking in hushed voices, though he had no way of knowing just where the voices were coming from without risking blundering right into those speaking.

_We've been through here once before,_ Xanther offered helpfully. _There's another tunnel just behind you – the rock wall at your back separates the two. It leads back to the entrance to the inner sanctum._

_He's right, Phendrana, _Vadania confirmed in a tone of finality, as though her word on the matter should settle the dispute. _It's likely that whoever is talking is just behind you, on the other side of the wall._

Phendrana nodded once and immediately flattened himself back against the wall in an effort to make himself as unassuming as possible, though he wasn't sure why he bothered – those whom he faced had no difficulty at all distinguishing a person's form within the blackness, and he knew that even a shade glancing sidelong down his corridor would spot him easily despite the lack of light. As there was still another few yards between where he stood and where the passageway ended Phendrana painstakingly raised one foot and brought it down as silently as he could manage, sliding slowly forward inch by inch, scarcely daring to breathe as he focused every mote of his concentration upon sharpening his sense of hearing. Though he fully expected to be detected and dispatched with every passing moment - surely the thundering of his own heart against his ribs was much louder than their own muted voices? – he managed to reach the end of the passageway without bringing any attention to himself. Crouched against the wall he contented himself with listening for a time, though he hadn't thought to prepare himself for what he might hear.

The first voice was a low rumble whose very timbre made Phendrana uneasy, and it was that discomfort that convinced him that the owner of the voice was none other than Fourth Prince Aglarel. "…Than the High Prince would ever consider contending with. Now I see why you have been so secretive of late. It was wise of you to keep the lichdrow's machinations from reaching anyone's ears. Had your schemes become known… well, I daresay you would no longer be among us."

The answering voice only threw Phendrana for a moment on account of its anxiety, but he identified Aveil Arthien easily enough by the inherent femininity and huskiness that characterized her every word. "_My_ schemes? Do you think I would have agreed to his outrageous proposal if I had thought, on any level, that there was any other option?"

_What is happening here? _asked Zerena in a muted voice, as though somehow afraid that she would be heard despite the fact that her voice never left Phendrana's subconscious.

_Is it not irregular for a Prince of Shade to entertain an audience in this manner? _Xanther inquired.

_Quiet!_ hissed Ristel, for which Phendrana was very thankful.

"Need I remind you yet again the manner of company you keep?" asked Aglarel impatiently. "We are the Princes of Shade, Archmistress, and few things are above the Most High's reach or influence."

"I was _beyond the Veil_, Prince – "

"Irrelevant," Aglarel interjected, with just a hint of amusement in each syllable.

" – And far beyond the High Prince's influence. Had I known the true depths of his divinity encompassed the resurrection of any mortal he deems worthy, I still would not have dared to believe he might extend such a gift to me. I have transgressed on multiple occasions. Why should he grant me such a reward?"

"Your transgressions have undergone the necessary scrutiny, and your numerous misdemeanors have been overlooked. The High Prince was most impressed with your efforts to end the lichdrow's existence, and pleased by the way you fought to ensure Hadrhune's safety. He would have restored you to life."

"How could I have known?!" Aveil wailed, or as near to a wail as she could get without actually raising her voice.

Aglarel was barely stifling his laughter now, so amused was he with her obvious distress. "You couldn't have… Though I feel the need to point out that you didn't give the High Prince adequate time to assess the situation. You were rather quick to accept the lichdrow's proposal, if I may be so bold as to say."

"I stand by what I said before," Aveil growled through her teeth. "Had I thought the Most High was prepared to intervene on my behalf, I never would have thrown my lot in with Lim."

They seemed so engrossed in their discussion now that Phendrana didn't see any harm in peering around the wall for a glimpse of them; shifting his weight carefully so that he didn't have to shuffle his feet and risk giving away his position he leaned around the roughly-hewn rock face and peeked down the corridor that ran parallel to his with his left eye. The passageway the Fourth Prince of Shade and the Dark Chosen of Mystra occupied was faintly more illuminated than the one in which Phendrana was currently residing, affording him a glance of two silhouettes in profile; diminutive Aveil Arthien stood much like the mindmaster himself did with her back against the wall, her posture as defensive as perhaps Phendrana had ever seen it, and Fourth Prince Aglarel veritably loomed over her like some manner of ominous specter. They were not physically touching, it seemed, but they stood maybe an inch or two nearer to one another than any two people generally cared to stand.

_I don't understand,_ Kiora interjected, but no one bothered to answer because no one had the faintest idea what to say.

The taller, shadow-swathed silhouette that belonged to Aglarel shifted then as he leaned forward, bracing one hand against the wall a few inches to the left of Aveil's face; she attempted to shrink back even further, but the wall was unyielding and Phendrana didn't suspect she'd have any more luck trying to force her way past the man who loomed over her. Despite her obvious discomfort she opened her mouth vehemently to speak, but the Fourth Prince was the faster and overrode her. "Allow me to remind you yet again, Archmistress – you play dangerous games, and the High Prince is far from amused. You are valuable to Thultanthar, that much is true, but do not make the mistake of thinking that your value outweighs just how troublesome you are swiftly becoming. The affairs in which you have chosen to meddle are far beyond you, but you have little hope of escaping them now – you have caused this dilemma, so now you must be the one to deal with it." Something about what Aglarel had said seemed to distress Aveil even more and she turned her head abruptly to one side to avoid looking him in the eye, but with a single lightning-fast movement he had seized her chin with his free hand and jerked her head back into place so that there was nothing she could see but him. "I do not care just how uncomfortable this discussion makes you, just as I do not care that you find my close proximity so abhorrent. You have lost your say in these matters. The Most High has charged me with delving into the crux of this matter, and his word here is law. So you will tell me – what are you keeping secret? There is one thing yet that remains unsaid, and before this day has come to a close I will hear it."

Aveil squirmed in a feeble attempt to free herself, but she was quick to cease her ministrations; it was clear in Aglarel's tense posture and the aggressive set of his shoulders that his patience was wearing dangerously thin. Nevertheless, when she spoke she was no less evasive than before. "I can't."

The single silver slit of an eye that Phendrana could see within Aglarel's shadowy face opened a fraction wider at her words, and he may have even relaxed the firm grip upon her jaw. "Why?"

"Because there is far too much at stake. You are a fool if you think I work for only my own personal gain. That has been your mistake from the start, from the first moment your patron charged you with becoming involved in my personal affairs… You believe this is about reclaiming my soul, and nothing else. And you could not be more wrong!"

Aglarel snickered and released her, but he settled his other hand upon the wall on the other side of the wizard's head, in effect pinning her in place between his body and the stone face against which she still cowered. "I would take greater care how you address me in the future, Archmistress. The only fool here is you, for thinking you can keep a secret in this place."

"If I have been so unsuccessful," Aveil snarled, "Then why do you need to hear the words from me? If the High Prince is so omniscient, why does he not already have the answers?"

The prince's posture and facial expression did not change, but his tone dropped most forbiddingly then. "This is your final opportunity to divulge all that you know of your own accord, Aveil. I have strict instructions not to physically harm you, but I am not opposed to defying the High Prince's wishes if I believe I am acting in his best interests."

Aveil did something most unwise then in Phendrana's humble opinion and laughed in the Fourth Prince's face, but her words were even more ill advised than her actions. "Defy the High Prince's wishes? You wouldn't dare! What sort of fool do you take me for?"

Phendrana wasn't certain where the blade came from; one moment Prince Aglarel's hands were empty and palm-flat against the stone on either side of Aveil's head and the next moment he was in motion, drawing an enchanted assassin's dagger from somewhere on his person and resting it with exacting pressure against the tender flesh of Aveil's throat. So sudden had the prince's demeanor changed and so absolute was Aveil's fear of him that no sound escaped her when she parted her lips – though Phendrana was certain that if she had uttered even the softest sound, Aglarel would have made good on his threats. They stood together in their macabre embrace for perhaps half a minute, just long enough for Aglarel to regain his full composure and Aveil's knees to start trembling with terror.

"I am not Hadrhune – you cannot tempt me, and you cannot appeal to my better nature. I am simply the extension of the High Prince's will. Tell me what I want to know so that I don't have to explain to the Most High why you are suddenly lacking your vocal cords."

Aveil drew in a ragged breath, and at last her face collapsed into an expression of utter desperation. "You… You must promise to protect me."

"I have already given you my word on this." Phendrana lifted an eyebrow and repeated the exchange to himself several times, silently urging his friends to help him remember the words, for after all that had been said this declaration seemed too out of place to be overlooked.

"Promise me," Aveil gasped out again, her voice breathless, her violet eyes wild with fear.

Aglarel paused for a moment, considering, and then did something very curious – he leaned even closer, though he was careful to keep his dagger poised against her throat at all times, until he was resting his forehead gently against hers. The words he spoke were barely audible – even as close as he was, Phendrana still had to strain to hear anything at all. "You may believe that Lim Tal'eyve is still a real threat to you, but this is not the case. He has failed the Spider Queen yet again, and when Lolth learns that you live because of his meddling she will punish him so severely that he will likely never be permitted to leave the Abyss again. What further reassurance do you require? I have already said that the Most High has charged me with this, and so you know that I will follow through no matter what that entails. The lichdrow cannot hurt you here – "

"And if you are wrong, and he can?" Aveil interrupted.

" – And if I am wrong, and he tries, I will put a stop to him. This is my promise. Now will you speak?"

_Phendrana,_ whispered Ristel tersely, disrupting the doppelganger's concentration. _Forgive me for saying so, but my instincts tell me that you should not be here._

_I cannot leave yet._ Phendrana couldn't refute the logic behind Ristel's words – he had been wishing all the time that he had not stumbled upon Aveil and Aglarel, and was veritably fuming with himself for eavesdropping on their private discussion at all – but now that he had an inkling of what was going on he was even more unwilling to leave than before. What if he heard something of great importance, something that was occurring beneath the High Prince's notice somehow? As a prospective member of Thultanthar's esteemed Shadow Council, did he not owe it to his sovereign to learn all that he could for the good of the enclave?

In the next instant Phendrana was both glad and horrified that he had stayed, for Aveil's reply was so outlandish that he was certain she had fabricated the entire story.

"You think that you have the power to influence Lim Tal'eyve's plans for better or ill? Then listen. It is he who has my soul in his keeping and it was he who restored me to life, but he keeps my soul still and will continue to do so until I complete a task for him. He has charged me with convincing the High Prince to restore him to life and elevate him to shadedom, and only then will he return my soul to me. I saw no logic behind this choice and naturally refused, for I see no benefit for the High Prince and thus no reason to strike such a ridiculous bargain, but he went on to promise that if the High Prince were to aid him with this great matter he would grant the Most High with a gift so priceless he could never refuse."

"And what is this gift that you thought was so priceless you entered into this arrangement without consulting any of us?"

"The gift is Lolth, Prince. It is Lim Tal'eyve's grand scheme now to use the gift of shadedom to supplant the Spider Queen from her position in the pantheon. Once he has done so he fully intends to hand Lolth over to the High Prince as an act of his goodwill… Or more accurately, he intends to deliver Lolth to Shar."

So shocked by these words was Phendrana that he gasped aloud, only a split second before he remembered he would do well to keep as silent as possible. The effect was instantaneous; Aglarel stumbled a step back before dissolving into the heavy shadows that permeated the passageway and Aveil shoved herself away from the stone wall, summoning the Staff of Winter's Chill into her hand –

_Run, Phendrana! _cried Kiora, and the doppelganger didn't need telling twice; putting his back to the tunnel exit he sprinted back the way he had come, no longer caring how much noise he made, only concerned with putting as much distance between himself and his adversaries as possible –

He felt more than saw the minute shift in the shadows ahead of him, and was afforded a glimpse of two cold silver eyes glinting out of the darkness before the first blow caught him squarely on the left side of his jaw. The strike was crippling, enough to spark stars across his vision and more than enough to make him lose his footing; with his head swimming Phendrana collapsed to the ground at Fourth Prince Aglarel's feet, too incoherent to feel the fear he knew that anyone with a mote of common sense would be feeling.

Bending low Aglarel seized the back collar of Phendrana's robes and jerked him off the ground just enough to look him in the eye; the doppelganger was chilled by the lifelessness of the prince's eyes, for though they were alive with frigid silver fire they were as cruel and devoid of humanity as a frozen tundra in the dead of winter. Phendrana regained enough of his senses to understand that he must either defend himself or be soundly and painfully defeated, and though he couldn't feel his extremities he willed his useless left arm toward his belt where his thinblade was sheathed. Aglarel was far quicker, though, and the moment the prince came to understand just what the mindmaster was about to do he raised one booted foot and brought it smashing down upon Phendrana's vulnerable left shoulder.

Phendrana wasn't so lost to his mind's incoherency that the pain escaped him. A wave of absolute agony crashed over him like a tidal wave and he screamed aloud, though he only knew that the awful sound was coming from him because it tore his throat on the way out; he hadn't the capability to recognize his own voice and the sound seemed so very far away that he was otherwise convinced someone else must be crying out. His arm flopped limply to one side and he gazed up into those glacial eyes, wordlessly beseeching his adversary to show him mercy and end the battle quickly.

"Should you like to do the honors?" Aglarel murmured bemusedly, the corners of his mouth turning upward only slightly into a smirk of superiority, and Phendrana was confused until he realized that the prince was not talking to him. There never followed a verbal response, just a flash of ghostly blue-white light that was so sudden and bright it blinded the poor mindmaster, and then Aveil's bolt of frozen lightning slammed into his back and rendered him utterly senseless.

* * *

"…Have killed him, the High Prince will have both their heads."

"They haven't killed him, fool, use your eyes. He's breathing. His brow is furrowing. He's about to wake."

It was true; Phendrana had dimly perceived voices talking in hushed tones not far away and had adopted his expression of deepest concentration as he tried to place them. His shoulder ached and his back felt as though it was on fire – he supposed it was these twin sensations that had stirred him from unconsciousness, and with a great deal of effort he at last managed to open his eyes. Several vaguely familiar faces were swimming in and out of his vision but one stood out sharper than the others, perhaps because it was so starkly different than the others that drifted above him, and he focused on that face until recognition struck him and brought him completely back into awareness. When his vision focused Soleil Chemaut scooted a few inches nearer to where he lay and stroked her hand gingerly along his forehead, as though with her touch she meant to soothe the creases of concern out of his brow.

"I am sorry, Phendrana," said a voice on his other side, and turning his head minutely the doppelganger found himself gazing up into the eyes of Fifth Prince Clariburnus. "I was thoughtless. So few non-shades partake in this competition that often we forget not every participant is blessed with the accelerated regeneration we have entertained for countless centuries. Had Soleil not thought so quickly, you may have been killed."

Phendrana glanced back up at Soleil, his comprehension still slower than he would have liked. "I almost… died?"

The mountebank nodded once solemnly. "When the Most High conjured your sparks and you did not return to the central chamber I assumed the worst, and so Prince Escanor and I came to get you."

Escanor was hovering a few feet above Soleil, and though he glanced surreptitiously down at Phendrana from time to time to assess his condition it was clear that his attention was elsewhere. "We brought you back here, and Rivalen tended to you. Your wounds were too severe for potions."

Second Prince Rivalen was also standing nearby, but his eyes were not on Phendrana; his arms were crossed adamantly over his chest and he seemed to be focused on the same point Escanor continued to glance toward every so often. "Explain it to him later. Aglarel and Aveil have arrived."

Phendrana attempted to sit up and grimaced when his back throbbed in protest; seeing the agony chiseled into his features Soleil crouched down to help him, careful not to touch his back and worsen the pain. The two of them, as well as the Princes of Shade who had already been cast out of the competition, were standing on a flat monochrome stone observation deck high above the central chamber of the inner sanctum; when Soleil had tugged the doppelganger into a sitting position Phendrana scooted toward the ledge, slinging his legs over the side and gazing below with the rest of them. Rivalen was right – there in the center of the high-ceilinged chamber was Fourth Prince Aglarel and Archmistress Aveil Arthien, the former looking as surly and detached as ever with his cowl pulled low and his arms crossed over his deceptively narrow chest and the latter holding her white staff easily in both of her petite hands. They stood back to back as they waited, not a word passed between them, and though Phendrana found himself greatly fatigued he still leaned over to address Soleil, who had taken a seat beside him. "Why do they not hide? Formulate a strategy in a more defensible position?"

"Doubtless they see little point in hiding now," Soleil explained with a nonchalant shrug of her shoulders. "If Prince Brennus and Hadrhune have been keeping track at all – and Brennus would have little trouble remembering who has been eliminated, and when – they will know that Prince Aglarel and the Archmistress are their only competition."

"Aglarel is the type to consider every avenue carefully before he exposes himself," added Clariburnus, standing on Phendrana's other side with his shadowy hands braced upon the guardrail. "Such is the nature of his work. If they have left themselves so vulnerable, it is because Aglarel believes he has formulated a foolproof plan."

Phendrana remembered the terror that had gripped his heart when he had looked into the icy depths of Fourth Prince Aglarel's eyes just before being struck down, thought of Brennus pitted against his older, far more remorseless brother, and felt suddenly afraid. He reached his considerable mental influence out as he subconsciously sought Brennus's familiar thought process, hoping to connect with him if for no better reason than to reassure himself that his lover was alright, and balked at the sudden unexpected proximity of the loremaster.

"They're coming," he murmured, just loudly enough so that Clariburnus and Soleil could hear. "They are very close by."

"You are certain?" the mountebank whispered back, as Clariburnus cocked an ear toward them conspiratorially.

The doppelganger nodded and tapped his temple with his index finger, saying, "Positive. I can feel him."

No sooner had Phendrana said this did Twelfth Prince Brennus appear before the doppelganger, for the first time since the competition had begun; he hovered below the observation platform but still high above the heads of his waiting adversaries, his eyes twin pinpricks of sharp bronze that were hardened with his concentration and determination. In one hand he clutched a thin adamantine wand that was as long as Phendrana's forearm, and his other arm, the mindmaster noticed with a jolt of concern, bore a deep gash that had not quite finished healing; the wound seeped the curious wisps of shadowstuff that was essentially the lifeblood of the shades, and though his injury may have been serious the loremaster seemed unaffected by it.

A few yards to Phendrana's left, Tenth Prince Rapha was chuckling as though monumentally pleased with himself. "A wound I struck myself," bragged the volatile hexblade to his two nearest kin, Rivalen and Yder, and Phendrana felt his insides begin to boil with rage, "shortly after the competition began. I would have taken his arm off if Hadrhune hadn't intervened! A pity, though at least it seems to be causing him some trouble."

A retort was quick to leap to Phendrana's tongue, but not quick enough to be heard over the release of Aveil Arthien's first spell; from the Staff of Winter's Chill leapt a bolt of the same frozen lightning that had felled Phendrana, and though it lanced with uncanny precision Brennus's way the Twelfth Prince drifted to one side easily. The bolt missed him by mere inches but Brennus hardly seemed to mind its proximity, for the moment the bolt winked out of existence the loremaster held his wand aloft and flicked it in his adversaries' direction. The smallest bead of liquid crimson was visible at the tip of the wand for the barest half second – it may have been a drop of blood, Phendrana reasoned, or a globule of molten flame, and in the instant before the spell burst into existence it struck Phendrana that the latter was precisely what he was seeing.

Aglarel seemed to guess what his youngest brother had planned and tucked into a roll at the last possible moment, but Aveil was a little too late on the uptake and had no choice but to lift her scepter in her own defense; the bead exploded into a dense incendiary cloud just above the Archmistress's head, its flames a roaring inferno that even those gathered upon the observation deck could feel scorching their faces. Phendrana threw a hand up to shield his forehead from the heat as he squinted down into the sea of dancing fire, and though his eyes were transfixed upon the impressive figure Brennus cut as he hovered above the blaze he did glimpse a faint shimmer of white light flickering from somewhere deep beneath the cloud. The source of the glimmer became apparent just moments later when the tongues of flame were slowly reduced to smoke and harmless vapor by the sphere of protective cold that had burst from the pale blue gem fixed to the head of Aveil's staff; the wizard was just visible within the sphere, her dark hair billowing about her heart-shaped face and her violet robes whipping about her ankles as the flames licked hungrily at her heels.

Brennus was frowning down at the female spellcaster with an expression one might use when regarding an irksome fly. "I refuse to be defeated by a soulless wraith from the World Below," he growled beneath his breath, just loudly enough for those gathered upon the platform to hear, and with a flick of his finger he cast his next spell.

The staff clutched in Aveil's hands was the target of the loremaster's well-placed transmutation spell, and the wizard shrieked when she realized she now held a six-foot-long python in her grasp; she flung the reptile to the ground purely upon reflex, and realized the error of her actions when the protective sphere of cold failed her and left her vulnerable. Brennus produced a spell component from within a fold of his arcanist's robes, his eyes shining with assumed victory, but before he could complete the trigger phrase that would activate the spell he was foiled by Fourth Prince Aglarel. Telamont's personal assassin materialized upon the observation deck and stepped out of Clariburnus's own shadow – the captain of the Army of Shade actually flinched – before leaping headlong over the guardrail with his sights set on Brennus and one of his lethal poison-tipped throwing daggers held aloft; fortunately the loremaster sensed he was being stalked at the last possible moment and flung himself to one side, twisting in midair to face his attacker.

Aglarel's blade still managed to find its mark, though the wound was superficial and not as serious as it would otherwise have been; it tore Brennus's robes open from his shoulder to the tip of his ribcage, slashing through his ebony skin and cutting deep enough to inflict yet another wound. The blade itself lacked the force to slow him down but the poison Aglarel had applied to the weapon immediately set to work on the loremaster's body; Brennus screamed as though his body had caught fire, and in his agony the ability to levitate failed him and he plummeted for the ground.

Phendrana suspected that Aglarel and Aveil, as well as everyone else in attendance, had all but forgotten about Hadrhune.

The seneschal chose that crucial moment to make his appearance at last, melting out of Aveil's own shadow and taking form dangerously close to the wizard; she whirled to face him but wasn't quick enough to defend herself, for Hadrhune brought the head of his darkstaff cracking down on the base of her skull with enough force to leave her senseless. While she reeled incoherently Hadrhune brandished his treasured shadow weapon before him with Fourth Prince Aglarel in his sights, and from the darkstaff burst no less than seven shadow doubles of himself; his likenesses swarmed all around Aglarel with a cacophony of animalistic hissing noises as they brandished their serrated shadow claws, and for a moment Aglarel was lost within the mass of attacking shadow doubles. With both of his enemies so incapacitated Hadrhune was afforded just enough time to leap to Brennus's aid; he met the loremaster twenty feet from the ground and managed to guide him into a much safer landing.

"The dagger was tipped with alchemist's fire," Brennus managed to gasp out, and Phendrana shuddered involuntarily as beside him Soleil cringed. When applied as a poison and introduced directly into a person's bloodstream, alchemist's fire had the potential to sear the victim's veins as it rushed through the circulatory system, where more often than not it incinerated the heart if not treated at once. "Have you an antitoxin?"

Hadrhune righted the prince beside him and plunged a hand into the front of his shadow shroud, coming up with a tiny stoppered vial containing barely a tablespoon of the vivid green liquid used to counteract such deadly substances. "Don't be long," the seneschal bade Brennus tersely, even as the loremaster plucked the stopper from the vial and downed its contents. "I will need your help."

"As quickly as I may," Brennus promised feebly, even as Aglarel finished cutting his way through the shadow doubles Hadrhune had conjured and streaked down toward them.

He didn't make it far; Hadrhune took a moment to consider before smirking at his own private joke and flinging one hand skyward, his palm extended Aglarel's way; in the moment before he cast his spell he cracked the butt of his darkstaff upon the ground, summoning a curtain of darkness so impenetrable that Phendrana's eyes could not see the two figures cloaked within it, and then the daylight spell engulfed the entire chamber with its harsh rays of magical sunlight. Only Phendrana and Soleil were completely unaffected by the spell, though both shielded their eyes against the glare; the Princes of Shade that had gathered upon the observation deck hissed unappreciatively and cowered away from the killing golden rays, vulnerable as the sunlight burned away the clouds of shadow that always seemed to engulf their bodies. Aveil Arthien stumbled about blindly, her eyes wide and unseeing, and Fourth Prince Aglarel writhed within the depths of the rays before dissolving into thousands of particles of formless shadow.

From somewhere within the curtain of darkness they heard Hadrhune's voice as the burst of daylight faded away: "I should be thankful to Lim Tal'eyve for teaching me that little trick, at least."

Two pairs of jewel bright eyes could be seen within the cloak of darkness that the seneschal had cast to defend against the overpowering sunlight, one of amber and one of bronze, and then Hadrhune dispelled the enchantment and the two shades stepped out from the fathomless blackness; Hadrhune was buffing the head of his darkstaff and smirking with a glint of superiority in one eye and Brennus was surveying the seneschal's handiwork and nodding his approval. The loremaster was standing upright without aid now, and the laceration he had sustained to his arm from his earlier bout with Rapha had almost finished knitting itself together.

"Very well done," congratulated Brennus kindly, and Hadrhune snickered with a kind of sadistic pride. "Now only the Archmistress remains." They simultaneously turned their attentions upon the female spellcaster, who was still blinking owlishly as her eyesight cleared, and abruptly Brennus's facial features rearranged from his characteristic expression of curious intelligence to an altogether foreign look of predatory hunger when he finished, "Allow me."

Hadrhune bowed. "At your leisure, Prince."

As Brennus took the first of his steps toward Aveil Arthien with the same adamantine wand held aloft in one hand Phendrana's heart soared in his chest, for it could not have been plainer that Brennus and Hadrhune were about to become the clear victors. The loremaster shook his hands free of his sleeves and leveled the wand's tip in the Archmistress's direction, prepared to cast the spell that would put her out of the competition for good, when the unthinkable happened: Aveil's face contorted with sudden unexplainable agony and her hands flew up to cradle her own head as a snarl escaped her lips, a throaty and guttural sound that seemed most unlike her. The sound made Brennus stop in his tracks as he regarded her with open suspicion, but through Aveil's trembling fingers he heard the words that ultimately replaced his suspicion with horror.

"No… Don't… Stop… Make him _STOP!_"

Aveil threw her head back with a keen akin to a banshee wail and sank down to her knees, her perfectly manicured fingernails digging into her forehead and temples as though she were inclined to tear off her own face; Brennus staggered a step nearer, his eyes wide and fearful, as behind him Hadrhune whirled to face those gathered in their frozen congregation upon the observation deck. "Summon the High Prince! This is the lichdrow's doing!"

"Lim Tal'eyve?! _Here_?!" echoed Soleil, and suddenly the lichdrow's name was spreading like wildfire among the Princes of Shade in loathsome whispers.

Phendrana's eyes were fixed upon Twelfth Prince Brennus, who by now had deposited himself upon the ground at Aveil's side and was attempting to reason with her in hushed, harried tones; Hadrhune approached slowly, his eyes fixed upon the Archmistress's writhing form with the helpless expression of a man who is powerless to watch as a nightmare unfolds before his waking eyes, and High Prince Telamont materialized among them just as the seneschal was gathering Aveil's lolling body into his lap.

"This is deception that even I seldom entertain," admitted Telamont, his expression caught somewhere between pleasure and disapproval, and with a start Phendrana came to realize two things: that Lim Tal'eyve was not truly among them, and that Aveil Arthien was the most treacherous individual he had ever had the supreme displeasure of meeting.

Aveil opened her eyes wide as Hadrhune and Brennus crowded around, and all traces of madness had flown from those violet orbs; her lips parted suddenly, showing off every single one of her flawless white teeth as she smiled up at them, and then the fingers of her right hand opened and a flash of daylight exploded from the center of her palm. Both shades were in such close proximity to the daylight spell that the force of it blasted them backward; Hadrhune landed about thirty feet away from where he had been crouched, his shadow shroud ablaze around him and the outline of his frail elf's body backlit by the scorching rays, and Brennus crashed heavily onto his left side with bolts of daylight shooting across his skin like electricity –

The formless particles of darkness floating throughout the chamber, the only thing that remained where once Fourth Prince Aglarel had stood, suddenly regained shape as the prince reconstructed his own body seemingly on a whim; he landed noiselessly between Brennus and Hadrhune, watching the two shades writhe in the aftereffects of the daylight spell with a morbid sort of appreciation shimmering in the depths of his cold silver eyes. Aveil gracefully regained her feet and sauntered over to his side, absentmindedly shaking droplets of molten sunshine from her fingertips as she surveyed her handiwork, and when the bodies of the two shades began to deteriorate under the rays of the sunlight that lingered in the chamber Aglarel knelt down to address them both, the tip of one of his poisoned throwing knives tracing the curve of Brennus's jaw. "Will you admit that we have won?"

Phendrana's mouth was wide with horror and revulsion, his abnormally long fingers clutching his own face and his eyes almost painfully wide in his sockets, and in that instant he prayed that Brennus and Hadrhune would accept their defeat just so that the sickening torture would come to an end. Clariburnus was rigid on the doppelganger's left, and seated close to Phendrana's other side Soleil was shaking with rage –

"We yield," Brennus managed to choke out between his body's involuntary convulsions, even as the keen bronze light of his eyes was beginning to dwindle. "Please… no more…"

"You heard them," Aglarel barked, his demeanor shifting abruptly from amused to businesslike. "End it."

"Yes, Prince," Aveil conceded demurely, and with a ripple of her fingers she dimmed the remnants of the daylight blast until it had completely died away, leaving the entrance chamber of the inner sanctum as nearly lightless as it had been before; though spasms continued to wrack both Brennus and Hadrhune's bodies for a few moments these, too, lessened in frequency until both shades lay motionless and gasping for breath upon the cold stone ground.

Telamont moved forward toward the guardrail of the observation platform, parting his sons wordlessly as he passed; he gazed down upon Fourth Prince Aglarel in silence for a moment, his platinum eyes a shade darker than normal and a little more calculating than was the norm. "You orchestrated this?"

Aglarel dipped a bow of acknowledgement; Phendrana swore that his vision was tinted red. "I did, Most High. I thought it prudent to trust in the Archmistress' considerable… acting skills."

Several of the Princes of Shade cracked smiles at Aglarel's remark. Phendrana wished he could crack the Fourth Prince's skull.

"Well done," the High Prince was congratulating, and he turned the full weight of his gaze upon Aveil, who seemed to shrink back a fraction as though in fear of a reprimand. "And you, Archmistress Arthien… Suffice it to say I will continue to watch your antics with great interest."


	9. I'm Two Steps From Salvation

Brennus hadn't the strength to even stand, much less shadow walk; those few members of the Shadow Council who hadn't dispersed when the Doubles Combat had come to a close – Escanor, Clariburnus, and Soleil – had readily agreed to aid Phendrana in delivering the ailing prince to Villa Tareia, for which the doppelganger was eternally grateful. Once there Phendrana had relinquished control of his body's motor functions to Ristel, easily the most adept at alchemy among the six separate psyches who inhabited Phendrana's mind, and he had listened rapturously as Brennus weakly walked him through the concocting of a Draught of Everlasting Shadow. It was not a potion that any of them had ever heard of but one the Princes of Shade seemed familiar with, and for once Ristel had reigned in his characteristic sarcasm and followed Brennus's orders to the letter. It wasn't long before Phendrana, now in control of his own body, had presented the Twelfth Prince with the result of the water genasi's labors – little more than an acid-green, highly viscous liquid that steamed what appeared to be wisps of shadowstuff – which Brennus had begun to drink in earnest.

Though on the outside Phendrana handled the proceedings calmly enough, inside he was reeling. The wounds both Brennus and Hadrhune had sustained from the point-blank burst of pure daylight were far different than the ones Hadrhune had incurred at the hands of Lim Tal'eyve – that sunlight had exploded internally, wrecking havoc on Hadrhune's vital organs and nearly killing him as droplets of molten sunshine had poisoned his bloodstream and weakened his heart. The wounds for which Aveil Arthien was responsible were all external, but seemed far worse to Phendrana. At first glance it seemed as though pieces of Brennus had been stripped completely away; the protective veil of thin shadows that always seemed to cling to the shade's bodies was gone now from the loremaster, and in the absence of it Brennus seemed almost frighteningly frail. Even his skin, normally as dark as midnight, was a sickly gray color and as inconsistent as vapor; beneath the vaguely translucent skin his bones were sometimes visible, and his shadow orb was pulsating a frantic, rapid tattoo as it struggled to sustain his ailing body.

Twin princes Mattick and Vattick stopped by perhaps an hour after Phendrana had gotten Brennus settled; the former was carrying a freshly-brewed potion that looked identical to the one Ristel had made, and the illusionist had inspected it before nodding approvingly. "Did you concoct this? It's masterfully done – I commend you."

"Please," Phendrana had begged, his face weary and his voice harassed, "can you tell me what it does?"

"Of course," Mattick had conceded good-naturedly. "The Draught of Everlasting Shadow has the alchemical properties to reduce almost any living creature to a wraith when consumed, but when it is ingested into the body of a shade or any other shadow planar creature it serves as a restorative elixir. Give it an hour, two at most, and the shadows will return to his body; give it an hour more and his heart rate – well, you know what I mean, anyway – will have returned to normal."

Brennus hadn't the strength to even sit up and drink the draught himself, so after a half hour Phendrana had finally pulled a chair up to his bedside and started to help him drink it. He would hold the glass to the prince's lips and tilt it just so a few drops at a time washed over Brennus's tongue and after every sip, it seemed, Phendrana was busy checking to see if the loremaster's condition had improved. After another half hour had elapsed Brennus had gained enough of his strength to support the glass himself, and at the prompting of both the Twelfth Prince and Soleil Chemaut, Phendrana had conceded to sleep lightly for a little while.

He wasn't out for long – perhaps only twenty minutes – but when he regained consciousness his entire body ached. Mattick had mentioned in passing that muscle fatigue was a common by product of being struck with a bolt of frozen lightning and had even left a potion to aid with the fortification and regeneration of Phendrana's weary body – this Phendrana drank gratefully, relieved when the soreness receded from his muscles and a bit of the chill flew from his extremities.

An hour after that, when Brennus had finally finished the draught Ristel had brewed and Clariburnus was requesting that the housekeeping staff send up the evening meal for five, the memory of the conversation Phendrana had overheard just before his disgraceful defeat came rushing back to him with a clarity so shocking he inhaled raggedly as his heart galloped in his chest.

Brennus attempted to lean forward in his bed, but his strength failed him and he collapsed back into a reclining position again. "Phendrana? What is it? What's the matter?"

"I can send for a doctor?" Soleil added, her voice filled with sympathy, and Clariburnus rolled his eyes.

"For the love of Shar, leave him! He doesn't need either of you to act as his nursemaid – he is perfectly capable of caring for himself." Clariburnus winked conspiratorially Phendrana's way, and the doppelganger cracked a weary but heartfelt grin. "I suspect this has more to do with something he witnessed that he now wishes he hadn't been privy to… Am I correct?"

Phendrana tipped his head to one side, at a loss. "But how could you have known?"

The Fifth Prince tapped his index finger to his forehead. "Our minds were linked when Soleil took me out of the competition, and though I was incoherent for a time a residual part of that link remained when I woke. It was not strong enough for me to bear witness to all that you saw and heard, but I was privy to the things that instilled within you the strongest emotional reactions." In response to the half-curious, half-suspicious looks that Escanor, Brennus, and Soleil were casting his way Clariburnus scoffed impatiently and finished, "He was eavesdropping on Aglarel and Aveil – "

"Not intentionally," Phendrana was quick to add, for fear he would be chastised for his audacity.

" – And could never have guessed what he would hear. Well, Phendrana? Can you tell us?"

Phendrana opened his mouth to speak, but a few members of the housekeeping staff entered then and derailed his train of thought. It wasn't until he laid eyes upon the lavish supper spread that Phendrana remembered he had missed lunch in all the commotion of the aftermath of the competition, and the Villa Tareia cooks had outdone themselves: racks of tender lamb, piles of fruits, warm honey, sweet breads, and a carafe of sweet pomegranate juice with a hint of cherry and mint. Vaguely Phendrana wondered if the pomegranate juice was coincidental or if Brennus had asked for it especially to remind him of the sensual interlude that their morning had taken, and when the doppelganger snuck a glance at the loremaster out of the corner of his eye it was to find Brennus watching him with that same hungry, overprotective gaze that he had worn as he had licked the pomegranate juice off his own fingers. The suddenness of the memory, coupled with the prince's wanton expression, sent a surge of heat singing along the doppelganger's veins and prompted him to reach his mental influence out in search of Brennus's clever stream of consciousness. Brennus received him readily, and Phendrana cut to the chase. _Perhaps you should be expending more of your effort on your rejuvenation and less on entertaining such lecherous designs, Prince._

_I will take your request into careful consideration, _Brennus replied, his tone one of over exaggerated diplomacy, _but do not expect it to weigh heavily into any thought process I may entertain in the near future._

_Keep your thoughts pure and your body mostly relaxed, and I will think of some way to entertain you when our guests have gone,_ Phendrana promised, and though Brennus broke the eye contact he had established then the mindmaster was certain a little color had risen in the Twelfth Prince's cheeks.

At this point the table had been set, and the housekeeping staff had retreated to the lower level of the residence; Escanor was helping his youngest brother out of bed and into a chair nearer to the dining table, and it seemed that even such limited movement was taxing to the loremaster. Phendrana dished a little of everything onto Brennus's plate before fixing his own, and by that time everyone had helped themselves to the food and were staring at him expectantly. Phendrana cleared his throat.

"Surely you have all noticed by now that Archmistress Arthien hasn't been quite herself since her miraculous… recovery," Phendrana began uncertainly, doing his best to sound as though he had no opinion on the matter. "This afternoon during the competition my initial suspicions of the truth behind her so-called resurrection were confirmed, and in Aveil's own words – she is soulless, and claims that Lim Tal'eyve is using her soul as leverage to force her to complete a task for him."

This was further than Phendrana had intended to get before being interrupted; Clariburnus, more prone to tendencies of impatience than anyone else among them, was quick to intervene. "What is the task he has charged her with?"

Phendrana sighed. "Aiding him in returning to a more permanent form of life – specifically, in becoming a shade with the High Prince's permission."

"What?" Soleil scoffed, and she was laughing uneasily as though she found this absurd. "Phendrana, there must be a mistake. Surely you misunderstood? All accounts of the lichdrow insist that he is highly intelligent even by dark elf standards – he would know the folly in even considering such a gamble. And we all know that the Archmistress is cleverer than we would care to admit – even if the lichdrow had it in his mind that becoming a shade was within his reach, she would never agree to it."

"With all due respect," Phendrana replied mildly, "if your life was taken from you, and you knew you had left so many things undone and unsaid, would you not grasp at anything within your reach to return to it? Would you not be just as desperate to make up for all the time you had so suddenly lost?"

The mountebank bristled. "That isn't the point; the point is that if you have verbal proof the Archmistress agreed to this plan, you have proof that she has is plotting to commit treason against Thultanthar. Conspiracy is punishable by death in the enclave, whether these plans have come to fruition or not. It is our duty to present these findings to the Most High without delay!"

Escanor reached over and patted his fiancee's arm in an effort to assuage her concerns without being demeaning. "We all appreciate your loyalty to the High Prince, but I can't help but think there is far more to the story than Phendrana has yet told. Phendrana, please continue. You have our full attentions."

Phendrana nodded once in gratitude. "Aveil admitted to finding Lim Tal'eyve's plan preposterous, but she went on to say that the lichdrow believes he can persuade the High Prince to grant what he desires with the promise to use his newfound powers to supplant Lolth from the Faerunian pantheon. Essentially he intends to defeat the Spider Queen on more equal footing and deliver the defeated goddess to the High Prince – a gift to symbolize his appreciation and the goodwill he hopes to forge with the Most High."

Clariburnus was barely suppressing his laughter – it all just seemed too ludicrous. "What – "

"_Phendrana_," Escanor repeated, a reprimand in his voice as he regarded Clariburnus. "If you please."

The doppelganger dropped his eyes to his untouched plate of food, the words he meant to say an imperceptible jumble upon his tongue as briefly he considered keeping the rest of his discoveries to himself so as not to cause further discord among the Princes of Shade. Seeing the doppelganger's uncertainty Brennus cleared his throat politely, a wordless request to intercede on Phendrana's behalf, and Escanor nodded curtly once in agreement. "Some of what Phendrana has said merely confirms a few things he and I overheard just yesterday. Hadrhune came to us in confidence and shared his concerns regarding the Archmistress' condition; after inspecting her Phendrana first began to suspect that she was without her soul."

"What reason did you have to make such an assumption?" Escanor questioned brusquely, and Phendrana looked up.

"I infiltrated her mind," he admitted, no less uncomfortable admitting to doing so than he had been the previous day, when Hadrhune himself had demanded an explanation. "She was sleeping, and the slumbering mind offers little resistance to mental intrusions. I glimpsed fragments of the conversation she had with the lichdrow during the limited time she spent beyond the Veil – near the end of their discussion he offered her a ring, and when she put on the ring she woke up in the presence of the Most High." Phendrana cast Brennus a fearful glance, and the Twelfth Prince nodded at him encouragingly, prompting him to add, "Prince Brennus and I have both seen with our own eyes that the ring I glimpsed in her subconscious is identical to the ring she now wears – a ring that I am certain she was not wearing before her death."

"And you believe this ring is sustaining her current state of life?" Escanor confirmed, and Phendrana nodded a little more earnestly this time.

"Without a doubt," he said confidently, "though by what enchantment this was made possible I cannot determine."

Escanor sat back in his chair and set to stroking his chin broodingly, a clear sign that he had taken Phendrana's words to heart; Clariburnus was sitting straight-backed and appeared to be having difficulty keeping his multitude of questions to himself, and Soleil was slouched unceremoniously over her plate and shredding strips of lamb with her fingertips. Only Brennus was watching the doppelganger's face closely enough to recognize the undercurrent of hesitation that remained in Phendrana's expression, and gradually he came to understand that Phendrana's observations were not yet at an end. "There is more."

All eyes snapped back upon Phendrana, who for his part focused on not squirming uncomfortably in his chair – he had yet to feel at ease in his natural form, much less feel relaxed serving as the center of attention. "Is there?" barked Escanor, and the doppelganger had to silently remind himself that it was only out of concern for the well being of those he held dear that the First Prince was being so overbearing.

Phendrana shifted in his chair, hoping his discomfort did not show on his face, for they were swiftly approaching the portion of the conversation he had most been dreading to divulge to them. "There is. If you recall my saying so, it was Fourth Prince Aglarel who was present to hear the Archmistress's confessions… He hardly seemed surprised by all that she had to say, and admitted that the High Prince had charged him with uncovering the truth behind her unexplainable recovery. Not only that, but…" The doppelganger sucked in a shaky breath, suddenly terrified of what he had to say, before finishing hurriedly, "Their exchange was… abnormal. At one point the Archmistress begged him to protect her and Prince Aglarel gave his word that he would do so. They also seem to be on terms that are something more than acquaintances… It is difficult to explain, but their exchange seemed intimate at times."

This admission floored them – they gazed back at him with blank, expressionless faces, as though he had spoken a language they were only partially versed in. Soleil was the first to speak, but her words were monotone and lacked purpose. "I don't understand."

"And I am not sure I am the one to explain it to you," Phendrana admitted, with just a hint of annoyance creeping into his tone of voice now – surely they could understand that he was only the messenger, and just as innocent a bystander in these affairs as they were? "Do you not think your questions would be better served if you asked them of Prince Aglarel – or of the Archmistress herself, for that matter? It is clear that something out of the ordinary is transpiring between the two of them, and it is highly likely that much of what I overheard has occurred beneath the Most High's notice – "

"You tread on dangerous ground," Escanor warned, and it seemed to Phendrana that the First Prince was regarding him now less like a friend and more like a king hearing testimony from one of his lowly subjects – the thought was not altogether surprising, but to Phendrana, who had never been anything less than absolutely truthful with any of them, it was most unwelcome. "Do not make the mistake that Aveil Arthien has made, and assume that the High Prince cannot possibly be privy to all that goes on within the City of Shade."

Phendrana knew he would do well to heed the First Prince's words and concede, but he simply couldn't allow such a serious matter to drop so uncontested. "I make no assumptions, and I recognize that the Most High's power is absolute. I merely feel that we would be better served laying these concerns and inconsistencies at his feet in the unlikely event that they have indeed escaped his notice. Is it not possible that he has charged Fourth Prince Aglarel with this task and your brother complied, only to become just as hoodwinked by that witch's magic as poor Hadrhune?"

"Aglarel is the High Prince's personal bodyguard, and his very last line of defense," Escanor reminded coldly. "His allegiance would not be swayed by the batting of eyelashes and the whisper of sensual promises!"

"With the greatest possible respect," Phendrana fired back, "did you not all say the same of Hadrhune just days ago?"

Escanor leapt from his seat then, enraged at being addressed so impassively by a man who was as yet little more than a commoner, and the argument promised to rage out of control – save for the carefully measured voice that belonged to Brennus as he came between them as an intermediary. "Brother, please, master your anger. Are you so enraged because you feel you have been dishonored, or because you know in your heart that what Phendrana has said is true? Return to your seat, I pray you. Phendrana is right – where Aveil Arthien is concerned, we cannot afford to leave anything to chance." When the First Prince had returned to his seat – though he did so with great reluctance, it seemed – Brennus lifted his fork to his mouth and took a dainty bite of lamb, continuing judiciously, "We are all aware that the Archmistress has fraternized with Hadrhune in the not-so-distant past, just as we know that the Most High has warned them outright of continuing such a tryst when he has made it perfectly clear that he disapproves of it. Just as the High Prince placed his trust in Hadrhune now he feels he would be best served in choosing Aglarel to carry out his wishes – why do we think it so outrageous that the Archmistress is not using her same tricks to beguile him as well? May I remind you that he is a man, and no less vulnerable to a woman's charms than any of the rest of us."

The tension diffused with the swiftness of the air escaping the smallest puncture hole of a balloon as everyone mulled over the youngest prince's words, and as they all grudgingly returned to their meals Phendrana kept his eyes fixed upon his own plate and worked hard not to smile. He couldn't help but think Brennus's final remark about the vulnerability of men in the hands of women had been the loremaster's attempt at lightening Phendrana's mood – for surely the doppelganger alone would find the prospect of Brennus being beguiled by any woman singularly amusing for reasons the others could only speculate. He risked a glance at the loremaster as he sought confirmation of this and was not at all surprised when Brennus met his gaze, winked conspiratorially, and looked just as quickly away.

They ate in a companionable if slightly tense silence for many minutes, and Phendrana was just beginning to feel refreshed from his meal when Soleil banged her goblet of juice down upon the table with a shout of assumed victory. "But don't you see?! We have overlooked the most probable cause for Prince Aglarel's uncharacteristic behavior!"

"And what is that?" Brennus snapped crossly. It was clear to Phendrana, at least, that the loremaster was quite tired talking in speculations and wished for nothing more than a little peace and quiet.

Soleil, however, did not notice – her newfound theory seemed to have emboldened her as she leaned forward to address them, gesturing with a half-eaten peach in her hand. "We seem to have all forgotten the nature of the one whom we are questioning. Prince Aglarel is our tie to the Citadel of Assassins and numerous other such clientele who all have less than desirable reputations. Throughout the course of his considerably long life and through experience dealing with those of such import he has developed a very specific skill set, both physical and verbal. Do you not suppose he was just utilizing his own considerable manipulative forces against Aveil to get the answers he required? Telling her what she wanted to her and displaying behaviors that would subsequently cause her to lower her guard?"

The three shades and the doppelganger all gazed back at her as they processed her hypothesis, and then Fifth Prince Clariburnus regarded her with a slow smile. "Well said, Soleil – surely you are right about Aglarel. Doubtless that is the root of the conversation Phendrana overheard, and the Most High's primary motivation for enlisting our brother solely for this purpose."

"Perhaps he can succeed where Hadrhune has obviously failed," Escanor put in with a faraway look in his eye, his poised glass of heartwine forgotten just inches from his lips. "Of all the High Prince's progeny, Aglarel is one we can trust to remain emotionally detached. The Archmistress's tricks will have no effect on him – the Most High's will is all that has ever mattered to Aglarel."

"Then you think we should not tell the High Prince what has happened today?" Phendrana inquired, and wiping his mouth politely with a napkin First Prince Escanor took his feet.

"Believe me, Phendrana, no one appreciates your diligence more than the High Prince in these turbulent times," Escanor began, clapping the doppelganger appreciatively on the shoulder as he addressed him, "but I think discretion is key in this particular matter. You have fallen in with this particular crowd here – " He gestured with one hand toward Clariburnus, Brennus, and Soleil, who all smiled warmly back at Phendrana as though pleased to find themselves in his company. " – And while it is good that you have done so, I think, it is almost unfortunate in a way because we are disillusioning you to the true nature of many of our brothers. I have heard that you ran afoul of Rapha yesterday in your travels through the city, and that you were rather ill equipped to handle his smugness and superiority? I am sorry to say that that is typical behavior of him, and something you will need to fortify yourself against in the future if you hope to survive any further dealings you may have with him. The same is true of Aglarel. He plays by no rules and he possesses no real moral center – he will say or do whatever it takes to achieve his ends with no regard to how his actions affect those unfortunate enough to be caught in the resulting fallout of his affairs. But perhaps the most important thing for you to remember about him is this: his dealings are often private, personal affairs that the High Prince has charged him with resolving, and him alone – I daresay if you had not overheard his conversation with Aveil, none of us would even know he was so involved. It is the way it is because the High Prince has proclaimed it should be so – what I mean is, I think this is one affair which you would do well to turn a blind eye to."

"And a deaf ear," Clariburnus put in good-naturedly, and he mimicked his oldest brother then by vacating his chair before offering Brennus a polite little bow. "Brother, thank you for the hospitality, but now I think I will retire. The days' events have fatigued me, and I must resume my regular training sessions at the Hall of the Arts Martial tomorrow." He paused, frowning suddenly, and added, "Are you sure you will not reconsider and allow me to dispatch a small contingent of soldiers for your use at Castle Tethyr tomorrow? I would rest easier if you agreed."

For a moment Phendrana was at a loss to think just what Clariburnus was referring to, and then he remembered with a start that he and Brennus would be journeying to the relic of Castle Tethyr to excavate the ruins in the hopes of uncovering the Netherese armory foretold by the Nether Scroll. He raised an eyebrow at Brennus, wondering why the loremaster would have refused the added security measure, but Brennus was leaning back comfortably in his chair and regarding Clariburnus with a mild expression. "I don't find it necessary, that is all. The ruin does not attract the attention it may have in previous decades – I fully expect this operation to be uneventful." He paused to smile broadly then, adding, "Besides, I will have Phendrana with me. I hear it told that by his hand, both the Left Hand of the Most High and the First Prince of the City of Shade were felled today!"

He and his two brothers shared a boisterous laugh, but Soleil was regarding the loremaster with a sour look when he turned to regard her. "We had agreed to be allies," she corrected in bad humor. "He deceived me."

For a moment Phendrana was bothered by her words and even opened his mouth to apologize, but he was overridden when Escanor ruffled her hair playfully with one hand and reminded, "We all deceive."

"There is a time to trust and a time to be wary," Clariburnus agreed, slapping Phendrana on the back as he made for the balcony. "And of that one, Soleil, you should always be wary, I say!"

He waved back at them as he dissolved into his own shadow, bound, no doubt, for his own villa where he could find some rest from the days' grueling activities; Escanor steered a disgruntled Soleil around the dining table before nodding at the pair of them in wordless goodbye and following suit. All the residual tension Brennus seemed to be carrying in his shoulders melted completely away at their departure, and with an apologetic look at Phendrana he set upon his meal with all the fervor of a ravenous animal.

Phendrana burst into a round of raucous laughter and set his hands on his hips. "I see you've had a change of heart where your meal is concerned!"

Brennus snorted through a mouthful of lamb and set to peeling a tangerine with his fingertips. "It's difficult to feel at ease enough sharing a meal with those three when the topic of conversation they choose to pursue is such a stressful one."

The doppelganger returned to the table, though in truth he had eaten his fill and was no longer hungry; while Brennus set to work devouring his fruit Phendrana refilled his goblet with pomegranate juice from the carafe and ladled more lamb onto the prince's plate. By the time Brennus had finished with his tangerine his plate was full again, and he glared up at Phendrana as though he disapproved of what had happened. "I think that you worry too much," Phendrana confessed, hoping to stave Brennus off before he managed a foothold for his disapproval of the second helping.

"And I think you worry just the right amount," Brennus fired back, momentarily forgetting his ire in favor of his lamb, and Phendrana smiled down at him fondly. "My brothers may be convinced that Aglarel's dealings with Aveil are strictly business in nature, but I am not so certain. Personally I think you are right to wonder as to his intentions, but I must echo what Escanor said as he left: you may be better served turning a blind eye to this. If Aglarel deviates from the mandate the Most High has set for him, the Most High will be quick with his reprimand. Best to leave them to their affairs, and focus on our own."

"Yes, Prince," Phendrana acquiesced obediently, and Brennus looked up from his food again with one eyebrow slightly raised in curiosity.

"I cannot help but wonder at your sudden compliance," said the loremaster, pushing his plate aside, and Phendrana was quick to move the plate back into place beneath the prince's hands.

"Eat your fill," he said, "and then we will talk."

But Brennus's curiosity had become open suspicion now, and he would not be distracted. "Is something the matter, Phendrana? If you are this concerned about Aglarel's integrity, you are free to address the High Prince as you please. He values your opinion very much, and you are welcome in his audience chamber whenever you feel it is necessary. He wants you to feel at home here."

So sincere was the prince's concern that it brought a smile of deep gratitude to the doppelganger's face, and when he reclaimed his seat at the youngest prince's side his protuberant silver eyes were shining. "It troubles me a little, but not so much that I would ever dream of going against your word. Besides, I do not feel so comfortable yet that I could bring myself to seek a private audience with the Most High, whether I am welcome in his presence or not. I trust Prince Escanor's judgment, and I trust in yours more than any other's. I know you would not advise me wrongly."

Brennus's second plate was empty, and though Phendrana was quick to reach for more food the prince stayed his hand with his own. "Then what troubles you?"

Phendrana turned his hand up and intertwined their fingers, unable to keep himself from chuckling at just how quickly Brennus's gaze softened. "Nothing at all," he admitted truthfully. "I simply find myself relieved that you seem to be recovering. When the daylight spell erupted and I saw how it affected you, I confess… I was terrified." He dropped his gaze sheepishly upon their joined hands before finishing, "I am sorry that you did not win, but I am glad you conceded defeat. I could not stand to see you in such pain."

The rest had done wonders for the loremaster's condition, and the food had restored some of his strength; his skin had darkened to its typical ebony sheen and the molten quality that Phendrana so admired about his eyes had also returned. A thin veil of shadows was clinging to his body but had yet to come back in full force, and for the moment seemed more akin to a hazy black vapor than shadow. In the absence of the usual thick cloak of darkness it was easy to see just how touched Brennus was by Phendrana's words. "You needn't worry. I will not pretend it was not painful, but worse things have happened. The Doubles Combat is not for the faint of heart."

"And how are you feeling now?" Phendrana asked.

Brennus heaved a sigh, and his shoulders slouched a fraction. "Very tired."

"I do not doubt it," Phendrana admitted, and he vacated his chair. "Let me alert the housekeeping staff and I will get the last of the meal cleared away. When that is done, you can sleep."

Brennus followed suit and clambered to his feet – a little unsteadily, the doppelganger noticed with a slight frown – before slipping out of his robes; beneath the flowing material his torso seemed a little gaunt, and Phendrana was seized with an almost uncontrollable need to fill the loremaster's plate a third time. Brennus ran a hand wearily down his face, saying, "I appreciate your attentiveness to my needs, but I will sleep in a little while. I think I will bathe before I rest." His bronze eyes raked Phendrana's torso, taking note of the mindmaster's clean clothing for the first time, it seemed. "You bathed already?"

Phendrana shifted a little guiltily. "Earlier, at Soleil's insistence, while you slept."

Disappointment was plain in Brennus's eyes, but he smiled easily enough. "Then perhaps you should rest also. Don't concern yourself with clearing the meal away – you will be a member of the Shadow Court soon, and such menial tasks are beneath you. The housekeeping staff will see to it while I bathe."

"Is there nothing I can do for you?" Phendrana couldn't help but despair at the thought of parting ways now that they were finally alone.

Brennus smiled, his ivory ceremonial fangs glinting crimson in the light from the five candles that had been lit in the candelabra upon his study desk. "You may keep me company while I bathe, if you wish, but there is nothing that I require of you. You are here as my guest, Phendrana, not my servant."

"Last night I told you that I wanted little more than to serve and worship you," the doppelganger reminded in a soft, introspective voice. "And to that I hold."

The Twelfth Prince dropped his hands to the waistband of the sleek gray trousers he wore, fumbling with the drawstring at the front with his fingertips, and Phendrana felt his mouth go dry. "Then perhaps I can find a way to satiate your subservient side," Brennus murmured, "before this night is over." Then he turned his back on Phendrana and crossed the bedchamber to the curtain just to the right of the balcony, and casting the doppelganger a single smoldering glance he passed through the slightly-rustling curtain and into the room on the other side.

It struck Phendrana for the first time how seamlessly his own thoughts raced through his mind, and he realized with a start that it was because the other six voices he was so used to hearing at all times had been silent for quite awhile. He reached out to them tentatively, afraid for a moment that he had offended them somehow, and Zerena melted out of his unconscious mind with little further prompting.

_Phendrana,_ she greeted serenely, and he relaxed at the happiness in her voice. _You needn't worry, there is nothing wrong. We thought it prudent to leave you a little time to yourself, that's all. It must be difficult to be intimate with someone when you have six other voices offering you their opinions at any given moment._

"I am sorry," the doppelganger murmured aloud, for his heart had begun to race and he felt he needed the comfort of his own voice to keep it from bursting out of his chest. "I hope that you and the others don't feel unwanted… Because nothing could be further from the truth. I value your thoughts and opinions more than I value my own."

_And we have never doubted that,_ Zerena assured him, in that same tone of complete and utter peace that calmed his nerves. _This isn't about how we feel, so please, be at ease. This is about something wonderful happening for you, Phendrana. You deserve to enjoy this time with Prince Brennus, and you deserve to have these moments to yourself, and no one else. Should you need us for anything at all, we will be here… Until then, do not concern yourself with us. _

"Thank you," Phendrana whispered sincerely, and then he felt the gloaming's psyche drift into the place he could only reach when he slept and reveled in the sudden sense of privacy. With nothing else to distract him the mindmaster looked up, focusing his attention upon the gently-rippling curtain through which the youngest prince had passed only moments before. There was water running; he had been so wrapped up in his conversation with Zerena that he hadn't noticed until her voice had drifted off into a place that he couldn't access. The sound was somehow calming, like a gentle rain washing over rocks, and he found himself drawn to it without even making the conscious effort to cross the room to the curtain; here he paused for a moment, considering, but the need to be near the water was compelling somehow and he brushed the curtain aside with one hand to admit himself.

The Twelfth Prince's washroom was the only room in the upper level of Villa Tareia that Phendrana had never set foot in, and the moment he entered he couldn't help but gaze around wondrously. To even call it a washroom was a bit of an understatement, for certainly there was a sort of beautiful serenity about the place that made it something more; the plush carpet gave way to smooth stones of neutral colors, beige and teal and cream and lavender and rose, that looked so inviting they prompted Phendrana to kick off his boots and continue forward barefoot. In the corner of the room furthest from the doorway was a quaint little rock garden; this spanned half of the eastern-facing wall before giving way to a flower garden overflowing with exotic plants Phendrana was loathe to name, greenery with unusual star-shaped leaves and hourglass-shaped flowers whose bulbs were deep sapphire but whose petals were delicate aquamarine. There was a mound of similarly smooth river stones cascading down the northern face of the rock garden, and through some magical means an everlasting trickle of crystal-clear water flowed gently down into a tranquil little pool that spanned one quarter of the room; the surface of the pool was so calm that it appeared as glass, and Phendrana paused a moment in his musings to gaze down into his almost perfect reflection. Though the peaceful oasis was breathtakingly lovely it was not the most impressive feature of the room, for the dominant aspect was a large ovular bath set in the floor; there were two taps carved of flawless pearl set at the southern curve of the bath out of which steaming water was gushing, frothing some milky-white substance that foamed miniscule crystalline bubbles that were exuding an otherworldly scent. There was a graceful low-hanging tree planted in the flower garden whose boughs hung just a few feet over the surface of the bath, and it was on one of its branches that the Twelfth Prince had discarded his roomy trousers; Phendrana reached out and traced his fingers lovingly over the dainty petals of one of the many bell-shaped white blossoms that adorned the tree, for he vaguely recognized them but the name of the flower escaped him as he soaked in the beauty of the room. Brennus was seated at the southern curve, just to the left of the taps with his head lolling comfortably back against the gently-sloping stones and his eyes closed; his arms were propped upon the sides of the bath, and near one of his hands was an uncapped bottle of the same white unguent that frothed the surface of the water. The bath lapped gently against his diaphragm; Phendrana's eyes skimmed the roiling white ripples, letting the sound of the rushing water fill his ears.

When the bath was perhaps six inches from reaching the top Phendrana knelt down and turned the taps off; when the sound of the gushing water ceased Brennus inhaled deeply but did not open his eyes, for which Phendrana was secretly thankful – it had just occurred to him that the Twelfth Prince had never been completely unclothed in his presence before this precise moment, and the sudden knowledge brought a rush of heat to his cheeks. Suddenly Phendrana recognized the tiny white blossoms that clung to the low-hanging tree, if only because the scent of the white lather that foamed upon the surface of the bath clinging to the insides of his nostrils was a scent that stirred up a dear and not-so-distant memory – the night they had slept in the same room for the very first time, and Phendrana had lay awake listening to the sound of Brennus bathing only one room away. "Night blooming jasmine."

Brennus opened his eyes a fraction, regarding the doppelganger with heavily-lidded slits of molten bronze. "Yes." A lazy smile curled up the corners of his mouth as he added, "I thought you might remember."

"Remember…?" When Phendrana caught up to the meaning of the loremaster's words, he felt foolish indeed. "You knew I was awake then."

A low chuckle rumbled from somewhere deep within Brennus's chest. "Of course, Phendrana. It was really the first time I dared to entertain the notion that perhaps my affections were mutual after all."

Phendrana stood frozen among the boughs of the lush tree, his fingertips lingering upon one of the white jasmine blossoms as he gazed down into those mesmerizing bronze eyes, and admitted softly, "If your affections are as long lived as my own, then I daresay they have been reciprocating each other for quite some time." The answering smile that spread over Brennus's face was beauty akin to the sun rising over the lush green earth; it brought to mind the beautiful nature of their surroundings, prompting Phendrana to ask, "What is this place?"

"Ah, yes." Brennus stretched his arms luxuriously; the firm muscles in his shoulders and upper back coiled and then relaxed. "Once many years ago, before the elven populations had civilized so much of the forests of Evereska, I journeyed there with a few of my brothers on an errand to eliminate a sizeable group of Zhentarim that had intended to settle in the area. The group was larger than we had anticipated, and somehow I became separated and outnumbered. In my exhaustion I had lost the ability to shadow walk, and so I had no other choice but to flee on foot or find my life at risk; I managed to elude the Zhentarim hunting me, but I also became lost. In my wanderings I took refuge in a place much similar to this, but grander and more spacious, if you can possibly imagine it… Prince Dethud found me there much later, sleeping with my back against that tree." The loremaster chuckled at his own carelessness. "I was reprimanded upon our return, but I swore to myself that I would recreate that place – a place where, even when my life is at its most turbulent, I am still able to find some measure of peace."

Phendrana untied the sash that kept his robes in place and wrestled out of the garment, hanging it carefully upon the branch just next to Brennus's trousers; beneath the robes he wore a pair of dark green breeches that reached his knees, and nothing else. He approached the edge of the bath and sat cross-legged near the bottle of unguent that the Twelfth Prince had poured into the water, absentmindedly rolling the bottle over between his hands; the stones were slick and slightly damp with condensation, but he didn't mind. "It's breathtaking. I am ashamed to admit this after you went through such pains to accommodate me here, but I think of all the rooms I have seen this may be my favorite."

"I thought it might be," said Brennus. "You are welcome to use it at any time… Even now, if you wish."

His suggestive tone prompted Phendrana to laugh and answer playfully, "You seem quite relaxed… I would hate to disturb you."

Brennus's relaxed face suddenly screwed up with concern. "Are you still afraid?"

Phendrana was quick to assuage him. "No – I am far more at ease today than I was last night. My only concern is for your well being, Prince. I only wish for you to find some rest – that is the only reason I am so hesitant to overexert you, and on that I give you my word."

The loremaster nodded his understanding, but it seemed to Phendrana that the motion was a little too stiff, a little too formal; his suspicions were confirmed in the next moment when Brennus said, "Then I will do my best to rein in my advances, and I hope that you can forgive me yet again for being overzealous."

Silence descended upon them as Brennus let his head loll back against the stones and closed his eyes yet again, and a pang of guilt washed over Phendrana's insides. He had been telling the truth – he was no longer afraid of being intimate with Brennus. Quite the contrary he found himself increasingly more grateful that the loremaster hadn't the ability to read his thoughts, for he imagined Brennus would be shocked by the impure musings he found there. His claims that he wished for Brennus to recover before their lengthy journey the next day were not unfounded either, but despite the resounding truth in his words he knew that the youngest prince was beginning to suspect Phendrana of having reservations about the intimate turn their relationship had so suddenly taken. And why shouldn't he? Phendrana had at last conceded to the prince's polite yet insistent advances the previous night, but before he had done so the evening had been fraught with emotional turmoil that might have been avoided if Phendrana had approached the situation with a little more certainty. Brennus had been nothing if not monumentally patient with him; it was not even an exaggeration to say that the Twelfth Prince had courted him in more recent weeks, lavishing him with attention and grandiose gifts. More than being simply patient, though, Brennus had been understanding – he had accepted Phendrana's disapproval of the cavalier nature of his personal life with grace and had been caring when Phendrana had cracked under the pressure of consorting with him behind closed doors. These thoughts and memories made Phendrana feel ashamed of himself and his recent behavior, but more than that they made him want to seize the opportunity to offer as much of that affection and appreciation to the man who had put so much time and effort into making him feel welcome in his strange new surroundings.

Phendrana cast his gaze all around, but was not made to look for long. There were a few other personal effects that Brennus had laid out for use during his bath – a sponge, a bottle of heated oil, and a fluffy white towel – that he thought he could put to good use. Reaching out he took hold of the bottle of oil and turned it over, pouring a moderate amount of the viscous fluid over his fingers and the palms of his hands, and shifting so that he was seated just behind Brennus he set his hands firmly upon the Twelfth Prince's narrow shoulders and squeezed.

Brennus tensed at Phendrana's touch, his firm muscles bunching beneath the doppelganger's dexterous fingers, but he did not protest; Phendrana kneaded the prince's dark skin with his hands with a pressure that was strong but not painful, massaging the muscles until they gave beneath the insistence of his touch and reluctantly began to loosen. Phendrana allowed his hands to travel down the prince's arms, working out the tension in his deltoids and triceps, before splaying his fingers over the prince's narrow but well-defined chest. Brennus's chest hitched as the breath caught in his lungs and then he exhaled sharply as Phendrana's hands lingered there, the pads of his fingertips tracing each line of the musculature, the warm oil oozing in rivulets over every millimeter of skin the doppelganger touched.

"Phendrana," Brennus breathed, but the mindmaster's fingertips brushed gently against the dark, peaked nubs upon the prince's pectorals and the rest of the protest was lost in his resulting shudder. Phendrana leaned forward and bent slightly down, stretching his arms a little more and running his fingers along the rippling contours of Brennus's midsection; the Twelfth Prince gasped and moaned softly, surprised by the mindmaster's boldness. With one hand still painstakingly tracing the well-defined planes of Brennus's abdomen Phendrana drew the other out of the hot water, and wrapping the dripping digits with exacting pressure around the prince's throat he turned Brennus's head almost roughly and crushed the loremaster's lips beneath his own. The kiss was dizzying, though how much was a by product of the intoxicating scent of the massage oil and how much was Phendrana's own unbridled passion he could never guess, and he continued to lavish Brennus's lips until the youngest prince was virtually gasping for air. When he was certain that Brennus was all but desperate for a real breath Phendrana released him, drifting back just far enough to take in the prince's expression – those curiously intelligent bronze eyes that he so adored had grown hard and dark, dilated as they were with barely contained desire, and his lips were deliciously swollen from the sudden and voracious nature of the doppelganger's assault. With his fingers still firm around Brennus's neck Phendrana could easily divine just how much the loremaster's pulse had quickened – he could even feel a deeper, more insistent echo of that same pulse in the palm of his other hand, which was still pressed flat against the loremaster's toned belly.

"Phendrana," Brennus gasped out again, but his voice was now so breathless and feeble that the sound of it nearly made Phendrana laugh aloud. Rather than steal the breath from him again Phendrana reclaimed the prince's lips more tenderly this time, the kiss a gentle, insistent tease; Brennus responded quite favorably, arching his supple neck into the doppelganger's relaxed grip, uttering little gasps of desperation every time Phendrana even so much as parted his lips to let the shade breathe. He kneaded the loremaster's taut abdominal muscles with his skillful fingertips until Brennus's breath came in shallow, labored gasps and he began to squirm beneath Phendrana's touch, and then the doppelganger withdrew his other hand from the water and his lips from the familiar sweet taste of the shade's lips. Brennus's protest came in the sound of a soft groan, but he was not made to want for long – Phendrana overturned the bottle of oil and poured a dollop of the warm, sweet-smelling substance in his palm, slicking it over his own fingertips before slipping his hand back into the steaming water.

With his hand resting precariously low against the youngest prince's tense belly Phendrana leaned in close, his words a low-pitched whisper in Brennus's ear: "May I, Prince?"

Brennus tipped his head back and moaned, arching his back and squeezing his eyes shut as the anticipation reached a nigh unbearable crescendo. "Phendrana… surely you know by now that you do not need my permission."

"Yes," Phendrana insisted, his tone of voice saturated with amusement as his fingers danced along the graceful curve of one of the prince's hipbones. "I do."

"Then I grant you my permission," Brennus murmured impatiently between his teeth. "Ahhh… please…"

"You told me just this morning that it was most undignified for the Princes of Shade to plead with such lowly creatures for anything," Phendrana reminded, his fingertips stilling, his mouth curved into a playful smirk.

"And so you have stripped me of my dignity," Brennus growled, and his eyes opened a fraction and struck something like terror into the depths of Phendrana's heart – they were harder than diamond and black with lust. "Must I command you not to toy with me?"

There was something thrilling about submitting, Phendrana admitted privately, and Brennus seemed to enjoy that subservient quality the doppelganger often showed when they were alone; merely to get the prince's blood boiling Phendrana murmured, "No, Prince," in a compliant, demure undertone as he made his next move, tentatively stretching his arm lower still until his trembling fingertips brushed over the smooth, swollen head of the Twelfth Prince's length.

Every muscle in Brennus's quaking body seemed taut to the point of physical strain, yet still he managed the slightest thrusting of his hips as he involuntarily pressed his pulsating flesh up to meet the doppelganger's fingers. Phendrana dropped his chin upon the prince's shoulder and exhaled wondrously as instinctively he curled his fingers, stroking his hand down slowly once and slicking the loremaster's manhood with the remnants of the almost unbearably warm oil. The feel of Phendrana's hand upon him, coupled with the intoxicating scent and heat of the oil, was so intensely arousing that Brennus couldn't help but moan aloud; the sound of it emboldened Phendrana, so much so that he stroked his hand back up with a deft flick of his wrist, tightened his grip infinitesimally, and stroked down again with a little more insistence. The prince's length was in perfect proportion to the rest of his body from what Phendrana could tell, slender like his spellcaster's build but lithely muscled; he wasn't as thick as the doppelganger, but he was longer, so much so that the feel of him throbbing in Phendrana's hand stunned the mindmaster into a kind of awed silence. On the following down-stroke Phendrana released him, his fingers reaching, kneading the two firm sacs beneath the prince's manhood with exaggerated care.

"Gods," Brennus choked out hoarsely, his fingertips digging into the smooth marble edge of the bath and his jewel-bright eyes wide and unseeing, and Phendrana repeated the gesture with exacting pressure; the prince's answering keen ignited a tiny invisible flash fire that burned with an all-consuming heat along Phendrana's skin, and gentle ripples broke the surface of the pool along the doppelganger's slowly-moving arm. Phendrana quickened his pace little by little, rapturously following every breathy moan that Brennus uttered, until the muscles in his arm ached and he decided that perhaps he could reach the result he craved a little faster if he employed a different technique.

The doppelganger loosened his grip and withdrew his hand, wringing a sound akin to a helpless whimper from the Twelfth Prince, before grasping Brennus's upper arms and tugging him upward most insistently; Brennus complied after a moment of confusion, bracing his hands against the edge of the bath and pushing himself up onto his feet. Phendrana dragged him backward, spreading out the plush white towel upon the damp marble and easing the loremaster almost reverently down onto it. The faint outline of shadows that had been clinging to the prince's body had almost completed diminished in the steamy water, leaving not a single plane of his flawless body to the doppelganger's imagination – Brennus was all smooth, exotic ebony flesh and graceful yet well-honed musculature, and the most intimate parts of his body were no exception. Though Phendrana's face burned with blush he allowed his eyes to rove the prince's body unashamedly, absorbing the hard, pulsing erection with his hungry silver eyes as Brennus fidgeted restlessly upon the slightly-damp towel.

"Please," Brennus breathed raggedly, his chest heaving with exertion. "I – "

Phendrana's non-dominant hand darted out as he laid the tip of his index finger against the youngest prince's slightly-trembling lower lip, and the feel of the soft pad of the doppelganger's fingertip stroking with an almost agonizing slowness sent a shudder coursing down Brennus's naked body. Phendrana's other hand ran the length of the prince's right flank with feather-light touches that raised goosebumps upon the lustrous ebony skin, and bracing his hand upon the smooth stones he lowered himself down and rained gentle kisses upon the shade's quivering torso. Brennus's hands were curling and uncurling into fists at his sides as he struggled to keep still, and in a sudden spurt of bravery Phendrana coiled his abnormally long fingers around the prince's wrists and held his arms fast against the cool marble floor. His roving, hungry mouth moved lower, his lips lavishing the prince's abdomen with affection, the tip of his tongue tracing each well-honed curve of muscle, until he found himself hovering just inches above the Twelfth Prince's gently-pulsing length and he lowered himself down just far enough to give the tip of the straining manhood a slow, appreciative lick.

The effect was instantaneous; Brennus hissed and strained closer, his back arching with need, but Phendrana was prepared for such a reaction. He leaned away just enough to avoid coming into contact with the prince's yearning flesh and slid his hands down the smooth black torso, and bracing his hands upon Brennus's hips he pinned the prince down so that he had no choice but to still his movements. He waited for what seemed like an eternity, until Brennus's half-formed pleas subsided into barely-audible moans and the involuntary quaking of his body dissolved into resigned little trembles of anticipation, and then Phendrana raised himself up onto his elbows and took the head of the dark shaft into his mouth.

Though Twelfth Prince Brennus had known many other lovers throughout the course of his unnaturally long life, the emotional connection that he and Phendrana inexorably shared intensified the sensation a hundredfold; the supple muscles of the prince's back tensed as he pitched involuntarily upward, his hands coming to rest none-too-gently upon the back of the doppelganger's head as he inadvertently plunged his length deeper into the nigh unbearable heat of Phendrana's mouth. For his part Phendrana focused on inhaling deeply through his nose and sublimating the flicker of fear that struggled to make itself more prominent amongst the multitude of other emotions he was feeling. This was not a foreign act to him, after all, and his determination to perform at a level that far exceeded his partner's expectations, coupled with his ever-mounting eagerness to submit himself fully to the prince's every whim, far outweighed the doubts creeping into his mind. With that determination at the forefront of his thoughts he concentrated on the task at hand, on relaxing his throat, on accepting the loremaster's erratic, seemingly uncontrollable movements.

Brennus gripped the back of the doppelganger's head with his fingertips, and though he knew that his fingernails had to be digging into Phendrana's scalp the mindmaster showed no signs of complaint. Inwardly Brennus knew that he had to be pushing his partner to his limits – the act Phendrana was performing would have been difficult for anyone, considering the impressive nature of the anatomy in question – but it seemed that his ability to think rationally and to temper his actions with his characteristic patience and consideration had altogether flown from him. He was lost in a sea of perfectly complimenting sensations; there was nothing that remained within his perception save the feel of the doppelganger's smooth, hairless scalp beneath his fingertips, the coarse fabric of the towel rubbing against his posterior and making his skin over-sensitive, the fine sheen of sweat and condensation that was forming on his bare chest, and the almost too-intense heat and wet of the perfect orifice that was sheathed all around him –

The warm, electric sensation that suggested perhaps his insides were on fire became too intense too quickly, prompting Brennus to struggle to form a single coherent sentence then. "Phen… drana… I… _ahhh_… think that it would be wise… _ohhh_… if you stopped now… before…"

Phendrana momentarily ceased his ministrations, gazing up at the prince and taking a supreme amount of pleasure in the sight that met him. Brennus was trembling with barely-restrained need, his eyes on fire within his dark face and the towel beneath his body soaked and rumpled; his fingertips upon the doppelganger's head remained, twitching involuntarily as he struggled to rein in his passions, and his breathing was ragged and labored. Phendrana couldn't help chuckling softly beneath his breath with exaggerated slowness, so that each exhale of breath washed over the prince's straining length. "Forgive me for questioning your authority on this matter, Prince, but I think that if I stopped now you would go insane."

At first a low groan was the only reply the doppelganger received, but eventually Brennus mastered himself enough to speak. "I can't possibly ask you to – "

"Except you did not ask," Phendrana reminded coyly, "I offered."

The doppelganger dipped his head a fraction and set about his task again, pleased when Brennus whimpered with longing and tightened his grip; despite Phendrana's hands holding his hips fast against the floor Brennus still somehow managed to set a grueling pace, and when the doppelganger was certain he couldn't hold out for much longer the prince abruptly became very still, every muscle in his body taut to the point of strain, and cried out as at last his considerable willpower was shattered.

And Phendrana took him in earnestly, as though if he didn't it would be the end of him.

For a little while afterward it was quiet, save the sound of the brook trickling serenely over the smooth multicolored river stones; Phendrana let the peaceful din calm him as his gasps for breath became even and relaxed, as he eased out of his kneeling position and sat upon the slick marble at the prince's feet. Brennus lay with his eyes closed, his lips slightly parted as he breathed deeply, the beads of sweat drying slowly upon his too-warm skin and his extremities limp with exhaustion. Presently Phendrana stretched one hand out in the loremaster's direction, his fingertips caressing the lithe curve of the prince's outer thigh with great care, and a contented sigh escaped Brennus as he cracked one eye open to regard him.

"You continue to surprise me," the prince rumbled, his voice thick with satisfaction and deeper, rougher than it generally was. "I confess – I am in awe of you."

"I haven't done anything that you should be so impressed by," Phendrana confessed, and he wiped his lips briefly with the back of one hand.

Brennus propped himself up on his elbows with difficulty, it seemed, and wrinkled his nose almost comically. "On the contrary, I have a great deal of respect for what you just did. Shar knows it must have been frightening. And less than appetizing for you, I'm sure." The disgusted expression he wore mutated abruptly into one of mild embarrassment as he continued, "Are you alright? I do apologize for my… enthusiasm. I have no excuse better than… well…" He broke off with a sheepish grin, looking lost as he cast about for words, and Phendrana couldn't help but crack a smile.

"You were made to wait," the doppelganger offered helpfully, and when Brennus attempted to protest Phendrana swiftly overrode him. "I am not protesting – I wanted all that you had to offer, and more. The truth is you were made to wait because of me, and from all that I understand it is rude to make one of the Princes of Shade want for anything."

The Twelfth Prince couldn't help but chuckle, but it was clear by the weariness in the sound and the too-relaxed posture he had adopted that his consciousness was already beginning to wane. "Nonsense. While I will not say that I was not growing impatient, I must admit that such delayed gratification has its benefits. I enjoyed myself rather more for waiting… And, if at all possible, it has made me desire you even more."

The faintest tinge of a blush colored his ebony cheeks when his confession was made, but it did not last for long; as Phendrana watched Brennus's eyes grew dull, and the protective veil of shadows had yet to return. Abruptly he remembered the grievous injury that had plagued the loremaster for the duration of the evening and felt rather foolish for ever having forgotten in the first place. Sitting up a little straighter he reached out for Brennus, who slouched into his outstretched arms all too willingly. "Prince, allow me to take you to bed."

"I will do so willingly," chuckled the loremaster, innuendo heavy in his tone, but his voice was feeble and only served to wring yet another laugh from Phendrana.

"You will do so because I am giving you no further choice on the matter." With that Phendrana gathered the utterly spent spellcaster up in his arms and lifted him from the floor, tucking the protesting prince protectively close against his chest as he made his way carefully across the slick floor to the curtain that separated the bath from Brennus's private quarters.

Sometime during the prince's bath the housekeeping staff had cleared away the last of the meal, tidied the bedchamber and put the additional seats back where they belonged; Phendrana navigated the now-pristine dining table easily, drawing right up to the elegant four-poster and depositing Brennus as gently as he could manage upon the mattress. Brennus gazed up at him through heavily-lidded eyes and worked hard to suppress a yawn, but in the end he was not entirely successful; his efforts to battle back his exhaustion were commendable yet laughable, and Phendrana couldn't help but smile fondly down at him. He took his first step away only to be immediately accosted when Brennus lifted his arms, a wordless request that the doppelganger join him in bed.

"You need to rest," Phendrana reminded again, setting his hands on his hips and crooking one eyebrow in mild displeasure. "Have you forgotten that we are departing the enclave tomorrow? The excavation of Castle Tethyr awaits us! As you are in charge of this expedition, it is now your duty to get a good night's sleep so that you have a clear head for this mission!"

"You are not staying?" asked Brennus, clearly dismayed, and Phendrana's expression softened.

"Should you like me to?" the doppelganger inquired softly, and in response to the prince's insistent nod Phendrana lay down beside him. Brennus's skin was cool, cooler than seemed normal, and in an effort to warm him Phendrana drew the quilt from the foot of the bed up over the loremaster's belly and wound his arms around his torso.

It was quiet for perhaps a quarter of an hour – long enough for the doppelganger to assume that the Twelfth Prince had nodded off – when Brennus surprised him by speaking; his voice was soft but filled with clarity, suggesting that he had been awake the entire time and brooding, and the topic he chose to pursue was not one Phendrana had been expecting. "Tell me of Rosalles. How did you meet him?"

Phendrana gazed silently up at the ceiling, remembering with startling accuracy the expression of rage Rosalles had been wearing when he had rescinded his love, the utter heartbreak and loss upon being told that they would never see one another again. Abruptly, he wanted nothing to do with the conversation, and his icy tone conveyed as much when he replied, "He isn't a part of my life anymore, Prince. There is nothing to tell. How we met is irrelevant. I am happier now than I have ever been, and I have left these unpleasant attachments behind me."

He should have suspected that this answer would be unacceptable to Brennus, who immediately shifted to look him in the eye wearing an expression that suggested he was far from pleased. Phendrana expected to be reprimanded, but the prince's response was more compassionate than he anticipated. "Whether he is a part of your life or not matters little – those that we love never truly leave us. This wound for you is fresh; it pains me to see just how often I witness you brooding over it. Talking may ease some of your burden. So tell me of him."

Memories were rushing back to Phendrana with the speed and insistence of a broken flood gate; he searched the too-dark room with his protuberant silver eyes, silently cursing the blackness and wishing for something, anything, to focus his gaze on aside from the probing bronze eyes that belonged to the Twelfth Prince of Shade. Brennus continued to watch him, and the longer Phendrana returned his stare the more that gaze melted from indignance to sympathy; the depths of the prince's understanding compelled the mindmaster into explanation. "As thanks for putting an end to Leevoth and eradicating Shadovar presence in Frostfell Manor, the lady of the house offered to send my companions and me to any location of our choosing. We had been trudging aimlessly through the Spine of the World for many weeks, and desired little more than to find ourselves in a place where the probability of further snowfall was highly unlikely." Phendrana broke off briefly to chuckle at the memory, for the suggestion had been Aust's and the others had been all too eager to agree with the taciturn half-elf. "And so we found ourselves on the beaches of the Sword Coast, very near to Baldur's Gate.

"For the first lunar cycle we engaged in as little activity as possible – I confess, our favorites pastimes were sunning ourselves near the sea, and savoring every imported bottle of alcohol that Aust could get his hands on." Brennus laid his head back down on Phendrana's chest and uttered a soft chuckle. "We might have been content to continue our lives in this vein for an undetermined period of time, but one of the nobles of the city learned of our presence there and dispatched a messenger to invite us to his manor – being possessed of generous hearts, we of course accepted. The noble was Duke Eltan, infamous throughout the region for keeping the Sword Coast safe from Baldur's Gate's most feared enemies – pirates. The miles we had traveled were not enough to separate us from our reputations, it seemed."

"Your reputations were something you wanted to escape?" Brennus interjected, and Phendrana could tell by the tone of his voice that he had said this with a frown.

"For me it was. Remember, at this time the name Phendrana was known to no one. I was still impersonating Kiora, still living my life hiding behind visages and heroics that were not mine. The reputation that I was earning in Kiora's name, coupled with the notoriety that Aidan, Aust, and Ivy had gained throughout their travels with me, was making it increasingly more difficult for me to go unnoticed. When the Duke came to call on us, it was the first time I began to fear that my true identity would be impossible to hide for much longer.

"But I am getting off track. When we appeared before the Duke he explained that the pirates of the Sword Coast were beginning to amass beneath one banner, and that their leader possessed unusual powers. There was little more he could tell us, but he offered my companions and me paid employ alongside his most decorated mercenary captain and the opportunity to stretch our little-used sword arms once again. For everyone but Aust – who could have contented himself with lazing about, drunk in the sand for the rest of his days – it was an opportunity that we couldn't refuse.

"As it turned out, Rosalles was the mercenary captain of the vessel the Duke had assigned us to. His career up to that point had been impressive – he had come to Baldur's Gate at the tender age of fifteen with every intention of commanding his own warship one day, and through a combination of his hard work and perseverance he achieved that goal only two years later. At seventeen years of age he was the youngest and arguably the most successful mercenary commander that region of the world had ever seen, and after wielding his skills for another five years he was almost solely responsible for driving seventy-five percent of the known pirate population out of Baldur's Gate's waters; I've heard it said that they fled as far as Mintarn, and some retreated as far north as Korinn Archipelago."

"An impressive feat for one so young," Brennus commented, his voice a bit sleepy but his tone still one of intrigue.

"So we all thought when we came to know him," Phendrana agreed. "He was a natural born leader, and his crew followed his command unfalteringly; it inspired us to lend him our support as well, as we worked to confront this new threat.

"On only our second voyage I came to understand the true scope of the danger that surrounded us. In the waters near Candlekeep we encountered some pirates and engaged them in ship-to-ship battle, and in my quest for answers I delved into the pirate captain's mind and learned a little too much. The entity commanding the pirates and uniting them under one banner was doing so using mental force, with powers very similar to my own; he was present in his captain's mind, and I briefly engaged him in conversation. I was rash and impulsive, and my grasp of the mind's true potential was not as honed as it is now – I found his will impossible to shake. Not to mention that I grew careless – in the midst of my mental entreaties I became a target for our physical enemies, and I was knocked overboard when a cannonball struck the ship. To save my own life I had no choice but to enlist Ristel's help, and when the pirates proved impossible to stop I had to use Ristel in order to dispatch them. He was seen. Questions began to arise, questions for which I had to spin even more lies. I wasn't ready to reveal myself. I had long convinced myself that no one would ever accept me for the man I truly was.

"The lies I had to tell to keep my identity a secret only increased as time wore on. Rosalles was charismatic and handsome and confident, and all of the other things I was not, and he came to adore Kiora – and instead of keeping him at bay I invited him in, using her image to convey the feelings that I was falling prey to. I was a fool, but by allowing myself to remain in such close proximity to the same group of people for so long and forming emotional attachments to them I had reminded myself just how lonely I truly was. Those who share my mind worked hard to warn me of the dangers I was placing myself in, but with each day that passed I found that I cared a little less for my own personal safety. I fell in love with Rosalles. I dared to believe that one day I could reveal myself and find acceptance.

"The entity that we sought was keen on reminding me otherwise, and as often as he could manage. I met him, in a way, for the first time at a gala the Duke was throwing in honor of Rosalles's birthday – he had somehow secured an entrance for himself into the celebration, and was quick to confront me. He attacked my physical body, and while I was weakened he assaulted my mind. My friends severed my own consciousness just so we could escape his attack. Aust and Rosalles both witnessed this, and could think of no reason for such a sudden state of incoherency. The Duke had questions – after all, it was his home that had been placed at risk – but Aidan and the others were quick to stand up for me and I managed to keep my identity secret for a little while longer. Nevertheless, the questions I had no answer for continued to plague me – worse still, they made my companions begin to regard me with suspicion. With no explanations forthcoming, all I could do was endure their doubts and continue to hope that I could find a way to resolve the issue before I was exposed.

"My enemy proved relentless. When it became clear to him that I would never surrender the truth of my identity willingly, he gave me an ultimatum – he apprehended Rosalles, and swore to me that he would return him to me if I could defeat him in a contest of wills."

"Does that not play to your advantage?" Brennus broke in at last, the warmth of his breath washing over Phendrana's bare chest as he spoke. "Your mind is your most dangerous weapon. In your natural form you are a threat to even my brothers and me." Phendrana withheld his reply, waiting patiently for Brennus's sharp mind to catch on to the implications, and was rewarded when barely a handful of seconds later the prince murmured, "…Ah. Oh dear."

"Precisely. In my natural form, he would have been hard pressed to keep me at bay – especially given my motivation to defeat him. But only in my natural form – anyone I might impersonate would be defeated easily. He knew that if I truly meant to rescue Rosalles, I would have no choice but to expose myself.

"Using the contacts we had gained throughout our time spent sailing the seas we were able to determine Rosalles's location – he was being held in the fortress of Iron Keep, the stronghold of the pirate horde he had amassed in his defense on the Moonshae Isles. The journey was long and arduous, and I was constantly hounded by visions of my nemesis subjecting the man that I secretly loved to unspeakable tortures. In my desperation to reach him, I grew careless. More and more I allowed my body to shift, to take on other likenesses, to bring me nearer to my goal of delivering Rosalles to safety. There were too many slip-ups. My companions knew something was amiss. I didn't care. All that mattered to me was ensuring Rosalles's survival. My safety, my life, meant nothing in comparison.

"Quite before I was ready I found myself in the bowels of Iron Keep, standing up to a rakshasa pirate lord and considering exposing my true form for the first time since my childhood… And though I was terrified I went through with it, even knowing that to own up to all of my lies would likely land me on my own for all time. Again, I cared little. If it meant that I could save the life of the man that I had come to love beyond all reason or logic, I was willing to face all the rest of my days alone happily. And when the fight joined, I nearly laid my life down for him." Phendrana trailed off, lost in the memory, and his fingers curled unconsciously around one of the magical trinkets he was rarely without – an oval-shaped stone the size of a silver piece, a masterfully-cut jade laid into platinum filigree attached to an inch-thick ribbon of black velvet. Brennus twisted his head to regard the doppelganger, wondering why he had paused in the midst of such a riveting story, saw Phendrana's fingers clenched around the dark green stone of his choker, and knew instinctively how the story ended.

"A Torc of Heroic Sacrifice?" breathed the loremaster, and though it seemed to expend a great deal of his energy and effort the prince shifted until he was propped upon his elbows, inspecting the fine gemstone with his curious bronze eyes. "These are becomingly increasingly rare – I have seen only two others in my lifetime, but neither was as exquisite a specimen as this. How did you come across it?"

"I took it," Phendrana confessed, his voice constricted with sudden emotion, "from Zerena, just after she passed away in my arms. I wanted something to remember her by."

Brennus took in the misty quality of the mindmaster's eyes, the way his abnormally-long fingers were clutching the Torc almost possessively, and was intelligent enough to piece the rest of the tale together without being told. "The rakshasa – Daermond, I have heard he was called – meant to kill the mercenary. You saw that Rosalles's life hung in the balance and you intervened." Phendrana nodded vaguely; he seemed to be beyond words. His other hand had taken to tracing the faint outline of a wicked gray scar very near his navel, one that might have been inflicted by a thin blade of some sort. "And I take it that is the price you paid for your selfless actions?"

Phendrana's answering smile was a little sad. "I am not sure you can call it selfless – my motivations were something less than so, after all. But yes, you are correct. The weapon that inflicted the wound bore very unique, very wicked enchantments; despite my efforts to purge it from my body, it remains."

The Twelfth Prince nodded remorsefully, it seemed, and gingerly traced the outline of the scar with the tip of his index finger; a familiar crease had formed between his eyes, a telltale sign that he was brooding on something that to him was less than pleasant. It did not take him long to vocalize just what troubled him, for which Phendrana was privately very grateful – he was cleverer than most, but to him Brennus Tanthul was nothing less than a complete enigma. "What emotions must have fueled you then, to be so willing to place yourself in harm's way… all for the sake of another."

The melancholic tone with which Brennus spoke seemed out of place to Phendrana – was he not here, in the flesh, safe and unharmed save for one insignificant scar? But the real reason for the prince's shift in demeanor struck Phendrana only a moment later, as surely as Daermond's blade had struck him back then – was it possible that Twelfth Prince Brennus Tanthul, youngest of Most High Telamont's sons, indomitable in both spellcasting prowess and intellect, was envious of the emotional connection Phendrana and Rosalles had once shared? It seemed a groundless supposition, a completely absurd idea, but the moment it crossed Phendrana's mind he knew that Brennus felt as though he was second in Phendrana's heart to the man that the doppelganger had only too recently forsaken. He stretched out his mental influence then, searching for the prince's surface thoughts and reading them easily as they flitted uncertainly through Brennus's mind: _How can I ever hope to find a place in Phendrana's heart, when he still grieves for the first man to ever love him as he truly is?_

Phendrana gathered Brennus up in his arms and dragged him up his body, until the prince was all but laying on top of him, his bronze eyes electric with his sudden curiosity; craning his neck closer the doppelganger kissed Brennus with a slow, introspective, smoldering intensity, running his hands along the shade's naked, lithely muscled back, losing himself in the compassion and sensuality until his body began to respond and Brennus was rigid with anticipation in his arms. Only then did he look the prince in the eye, the fingertips of one hand lingering upon Brennus's cheek so as to retain the eye contact, for what he had to say now was more important than perhaps anything he had ever said before.

"The same emotions that drove me to defend you to my companions, even when I knew that your intentions were something less than selfless," he explained, his voice soft, gentle. "The same emotions that forced me out of Manifest and into Thultanthar, and to change my life so suddenly and completely. The same emotions I felt when I saved you from the phaerimm ambush, when I returned to you after I felt you had wronged me, when I delivered myself into your service even though I was afraid. Those emotions are the same emotions I feel now, only the ones I feel now are so much stronger that I think it is almost wrong to compare the two."

The excitement coursing through Brennus's body did not lessen once he had heard Phendrana's words – rather, it altered, changed, became something less primal and something far more meaningful. A slow, awe-stricken smile lit up the prince's face as he came to understand just what Phendrana meant; the almost mournful quality his eyes had taken on vanished altogether, replaced by pride and compassion so intense that his eyes began to burn like molten precious metal in his shadow-swathed face. Then his lips were upon Phendrana's again, instilling within the doppelganger a joy and contentment that he had not yet known in all the years of his life.

They shared a seemingly endless train of kisses and innocent touches for a time that may have been an hour or half the night, until at Phendrana's insistence Brennus at last allowed himself to be lulled to sleep by the sound of water trickling gently over smooth stones into a serene pool not far away.


	10. But I'm Only Taking One

The day began earlier than Phendrana might have liked under normal circumstances, but on that particular morning he was awake even before Brennus rose and filled with an electric energy he could only divine one reason for: this was to be the first day he would set foot outside of Thultanthar since he had come to the city on errand to save Hadrhune from the fatal daylight spell that had nearly killed the seneschal. Though his eagerness to be involved was real and infectious, Brennus simply chuckled to himself as he dressed and moved about his room, gathering all that he might utilize throughout the course of their journey.

"There is little you can do to help me prepare to leave this place," the Twelfth Prince told him pleasantly, sweeping about his private quarters with his familiar loremaster's robes rippling about the heels of his boots. "I have arranged for everything already – there is only the matter of ensuring that all we will need to perform the excavation has been secured and is prepared to be moved for our usage."

Phendrana was on his feet, jittery with an over-excess of excitement and anticipation but with no way to utilize it; the sight of him standing in the center of the room, his empty hands grasping at thin air and his bright eyes darting about inquisitively, prompted Brennus to laugh out loud. "Surely there is something I can do! You don't mean for me to sit here and wait, do you?!"

Brennus turned back to face him, and the figure he cut was so impressive that the sight of him momentarily gave Phendrana pause. He was wearing the dark robes with the iridescent runes that Phendrana had always found so fascinating to look upon; his left wrist was adorned with a shimmering silver bracer that bore five different wands of varying lengths and materials, and upon his right hand he wore two rings, one of onyx set with a bright emerald and the other an unadorned band of mithril. Phendrana didn't know that the prince's left ear was pierced if only because he had never worn anything there in the doppelganger's presence before, but in the lobe there now glinted a golden stud set with a tiny pink stone that may have been a garnet, or perhaps a rose quartz, and upon his brow rested a silver circlet adorned with a diamond-shaped, very dark amber stone. It was Twelfth Prince Brennus Tanthul at his most regal, and to Phendrana the shade was nothing less than breathtaking.

"Your enthusiasm is most endearing, and your willingness to aid me is commendable," Brennus began by way of thanks, "but at present, all there is for you to do is make yourself ready. Lux will be here to attend to your needs within the hour, but as we will need him to oversee upkeep of the villa while we are away he will not be accompanying us beyond the city boundaries. I suggest you bathe, don your gear and locate your magical effects, as you may need them during the excavation."

It seemed Brennus was preparing to leave the villa himself; Phendrana indicated him with a half-hearted wave of one hand, doing his best not to pout. "Had I known I was meant to make ready earlier I would have, so that I could accompany you."

"You weren't meant to – I am meeting with Altaria at the Shadow Mages' College shortly, so that she might return to me the Nether Scroll and the map of Castle Tethyr. Whilst I am there I will be collecting a few alchemical items from Mattick that I asked for him to prepare for me, and then I will be gathering my chosen few arcanists and archaeologists and giving them their orders for departure. Afterward I will return, and I expect you to be ready to disembark then."

Phendrana offered the prince a bow of obeisance, a subservient gesture that sent a thrill of pride and excitement racing down his spine, and when he straightened it was to find that Brennus's eyes had hardened and dilated. He wondered briefly if he had done something to offend the prince, but that concern was dashed from his mind as in the next moment Brennus closed the distance between them with three long strides and seized Phendrana in his most passionate embrace yet. Phendrana submitted to him happily, melting into the loremaster's chaste touches and veritably thrumming with pleasure at the sound of the soft growls Brennus uttered every time he claimed the mindmaster's lips. When they parted Brennus's eyes burned within his shadow-swathed face – he looked healthy this morning, and seemed to have recovered all of his strength – and he said, "Do not think that I have not noticed your ever-growing penchant for subservient tendencies."

"They seem to have an interesting effect on you, Prince," Phendrana pointed out with a snicker, raising an eyebrow as though he dared Brennus to deny this.

The loremaster's eyes glittered dangerously. "Manipulating one of the Princes of Shade? Surely I must devise a punishment that suits the severity of such a transgression."

"I can hardly wait to see what it is," Phendrana murmured huskily, and winding his arms around the prince's waist he crushed their lips together again with increasing hunger.

At the door, there came the muffled sound of a throat being cleared.

Phendrana jolted out of Brennus's arms as though he had been struck by a bolt of lightning and turned his neck so quickly that he was certain he pulled a muscle; he recognized the long dark locks and inquisitive jade eyes that belonged to the young Shadovar boy called Lux, and the moment Phendrana's eyes fell upon him Lux bent at the waist with his hands clasped politely in front of him. Brennus was much slower to move away, but when he addressed the boy he was all business. "Discretion, Lux."

Lux straightened at the sound of the prince's voice, his face serene, a lucid smile in place upon his cherubic lips. Phendrana marveled at him, certain he hadn't heard the door open or close to admit the young boy. "I'm certain I don't know what you mean, Prince."

Brennus allowed the barest hint of a smile to return to his features, a sure sign that he was pleased by Lux's response. "Very good. I will leave Phendrana in your care, then, for I have much to do. See that he is made ready before I return."

"With all haste, Prince." Lux bowed yet again before ushering himself out the door, his every movement utterly soundless and efficient.

"You are most welcome to use my bathing room… In fact, I think I would prefer it." Brennus's eyes were on Phendrana again, and a hint of his earlier excitement lingered still in his businesslike expression. "I will not be long – we will dine together when I return, and then we will depart." Leaning in he stole one last kiss from the doppelganger's bewildered lips before vanishing into his own shadow, stirring up miniscule motes of shadow particles as he went.

Phendrana was melting into a pool of soothing hot water – in Brennus's personal bathing chamber, no less – when he heard the soft sound of Lux clearing his throat again, and glancing at the door he found the curious Shadovar boy bowing by way of admitting himself. The foam that skimmed the surface of the water would have deterred any prying eyes, but Lux continued to prove that he was the very embodiment of discretion and seldom raised his gaze from the ground at his feet. "Lord Phendrana."

"A good morning to you, Lux," the doppelganger greeted him pleasantly, and he shifted himself in the bath so that he could better look his personal attendant in the eye. "I would like to discuss a matter of great importance briefly with you, unless your duties do not allot you much time."

Lux was contemplating a smooth, taupe river stone beneath the toes of his simple shoes, though there was nothing in his expression that suggested his mind had wandered. "Begging your pardon, My Lord, but you are my duty. If you have a concern for anything at all, I will make it my priority."

The doppelganger had suspected as much. "My concern is the nature of our arrangement. You see, Lux, I am of no import to speak of, and these formalities are altogether foreign to me. I would request that you speak to me as you would a friend, for I find myself without my friends and would very much enjoy it if I could name you as my newest one."

Lux blinked – his passive expression clouded for a half second with confusion before he was able to rearrange his facial features, but Phendrana did not miss it. It was as though the doppelganger had asked Lux to perform a task, but he had spoken in a language that the poor boy was not well versed in. "I'm afraid I don't understand what you mean, My Lord. Please forgive my ineptitude."

"You are further from the mantle of ineptitude than almost anyone else I have ever met, Lux," Phendrana assured with a chuckle. "I mean that I wish for you to be at ease around me. I would like it if you could be yourself in my presence."

"I am afraid that Prince Brennus would dislike it very much if I dishonored you by ceasing to offer you the respect that you deserve," Lux responded coolly.

_This is entertaining,_ chuckled Ristel from somewhere within the doppelganger's subconscious mind, and his wasn't the only ethereal voice that laughed.

"You have a point there," Phendrana conceded. "How about this then – do you think that you could be yourself when the prince isn't present? Could you look me in the eye, perhaps cease with the bowing, and definitely omit the use of these fancy titles?"

That did it – Lux couldn't keep himself from grinning at the obvious disdain in Phendrana's tone, and his eyes flitted up almost guiltily as though he feared to be reprimanded; Phendrana smiled back, pleased that his personal attendant seemed to be warming to the idea of being friends as opposed to something more akin to master and slave. In the face of the doppelganger's encouraging smile Lux found it within himself to say, "I think I could do that for you, if you truly wish it."

"I do," said Phendrana happily, and lifting one arm from the steaming bath he gestured for the boy to make himself comfortable; Lux hesitated for only a moment, still uncertain about the drastic change in their arrangement, before seating himself beneath the artfully branching tree with the white jasmine blossoms upon its boughs. "Actually, I wondered if I might ask you something. You did not seem surprised to find me in such an intimate position with the prince this morning… Do you witness such scenes often?"

Lux seemed mildly uncomfortable with the topic Phendrana had chosen to pursue, but he seemed determined to honor Phendrana's wish that their relationship be a more relaxed one. "That is difficult to answer. The manner of company that the prince chooses to keep is no secret in this household – on the contrary the majority of us have chosen to serve him because he is just as accepting of us as we are of him. But no, I do not witness scenes of that nature often." Lux seemed eager to please then, adding happily, "I was not bothered by what I saw, and no one will hear of it from me."

Phendrana was grateful that Lux seemed to have settled down. "You are as discreet as the prince mentioned. Do you mean that you have never seen him entertain another man in his private company? If that is true, how could you possibly know what sort of company he prefers to keep?"

"Oh, that isn't what I mean at all." Lux crossed his legs and balanced his chin on one fist, looking more like a little boy than ever before. "I have been in Prince Brennus's service for many, many years, and I have seen him carry on with many a consort in that time… However, the scene I witnessed just now was altogether new to me, for in all the time I have been serving him I have never known Prince Brennus to entertain anyone in his own bedchamber."

The doppelganger had drooped a little at the mention of Brennus entertaining multiple companions over the years, but he had perked right back up by the time Lux's voice had faded away; he sat up a little straighter, blinking slowly, wondering at the implications of the boy's words. "But why?"

Lux cracked a smile. "If I had to make a guess, I would say that he was never fond enough of anyone to invite them into the most private parts of his life until only recently. I am a lowly servant of little consequence, Phendrana, and in this place it may be that my opinion amounts to very little… However, it seems to me that Prince Brennus favors you above all others. It is heartening to me to see just how happy you have made him in the short time you have been living within Thultanthar." Then from the breast pocket of his simple white tunic Lux extracted an elegant silver timepiece, and after glancing briefly at its well-polished face he snapped it closed and tucked it back where it belonged as he clambered to his feet. "Now if you will forgive me, we seem to be running a little behind schedule. I have arranged your travel attire, your weapons, and your magical effects for you in your private quarters – would you like me to fetch them to you?"

Phendrana rose from the depths of the frothing water and reached for the towel he had hung upon the lowest branch of the tree, and stepping out of the bath he wrapped it around his waist and shook droplets from his arms. "No, I'll make ready there, thank you." He paused on his way to the prince's bedchamber to drop a hand companionably down upon Lux's diminutive shoulder, smiling as he added, "I count myself fortunate to have you, Lux. I look forward to our time together."

The Shadovar boy started to bow but remembered himself at the last moment, and laughing out loud he ran a hand embarrassedly down his face. "You do me a great kindness. I shall treasure your friendship."

* * *

The rest of the morning passed by quickly, for which Phendrana was very grateful; shortly after he had made himself ready Brennus returned with the female Shadovar with the severe face and the bald pate – Altaria, the doppelganger remembered – and the three of them had a light brunch together. By the time Brennus returned from his brief visit to the Shadow Mages' College it seemed he had mentally prepared himself to undertake his newest task; all throughout the meal he was content to share every bit of information that he knew regarding Castle Tethyr with his two companions, talking quickly and excitedly and nearly forgetting his food in his anticipation. By the time Lux interrupted them with a polite reminder that presently the excavation party would be departing the city from the Lower District, the prince had barely eaten, much to Phendrana's disapproval.

"Do not concern yourself with it," Brennus said in response to the mindmaster's fussing. "Such is often the case when I am tasked with an operation of this magnitude."

Lux saw them on their way with much bowing and well wishes and promises that they would find the villa in perfect order upon their return, and then the three of them shadow-walked from The Circle to the often-used portion of the Lower District where the veserabs and other magical beasts were stabled. The party of arcanists, historians, and archeologists that Brennus had appointed to accompany them to the excavation site were indeed assembled by the time they arrived; the arcanists were easily distinguishable from the rest, for they were a company of six and all wore robes similar to those the Twelfth Prince himself had donned for the journey. The historians and archeologists were all dressed in more simple garb, heavy-duty trousers and tunics and traveling cloaks of darker colors that ranged anywhere from jade to cobalt to crimson – based, Phendrana assumed, upon their rank and status within their sect – and were just finishing up loading their tools and textbooks into large saddlebags that had been strapped to their veserabs' flanks. The Shadovar stable hands nearest to the launch platform were saddling two horse-like creatures that were swathed in shadow and boasted large, powerful wings – darksteeds, he recalled suddenly, for he remembered that Soleil had one and rode it out of the enclave often – that Phendrana assumed were the mounts he and Brennus would be riding to the distant castle that was their destination.

Phendrana drew fearlessly near to his mount's side and ran one hand down its flank, marveling at its eerie red eyes and its powerfully muscled body. "For me?"

Brennus chuckled beneath his breath and slung himself into his darksteed's saddle easily before accepting the equine's reins from one of the bustling stable hands. "Not long after our return from this campaign you will become a shade, Phendrana, and afterward you will be named a Hero of Thultanthar and the Mind of the Most High at a public ceremony in your honor. I hate to be the one to inform you of this, but your mount pales in comparison to the great gifts the High Prince will bestow upon you when you have officially entered into his Court."

He gave the doppelganger little time to respond to this claim, instead rearing his mount most impressively and calling, "Let us away!" to the eagerly-waiting members of the excavation party, and then Phendrana's darksteed leapt forward in a sudden surge of energy; they galloped to the precipice of the launch platform, the shadowy equine's ivory hooves clattered at the brink, and then it spread it magnificent ebony wings and took to the sky. There followed an awful sensation of displacement, for Phendrana's eyes weren't quite keen enough to penetrate the billowing curtains of darkness that shrouded Thultanthar from the harsh rays of the sun, and as his heart rate increased in his panic and his hands clenched tight upon the reins of his airborne mount the air around them suddenly grew brighter –

And then he was out in the sun.

It struck Phendrana as surely as a physical blow might have, for in the weeks he had been dwelling within the City of Shade he had experienced nothing that could have adequately prepared him for the unbelievable radiance of the life-giving golden rays streaming down from on high; he squinted, desperate to see it, but his eyes could not endure the glare and so he rode blindly for the first several minutes and trusted his steed to keep him on the correct course. Even more incredible than the sun's warmth scorching his closed eyelids was the feel of it searing his skin; the heat was so glorious that he was certain it would set his body ablaze, yet he felt no desire to withdraw from it. For several excruciating minutes he was Icarus, soaring incomprehensibly near the sun, his entire body in flame.

Then slowly his other senses returned to him, and he perceived other sensations that altogether delighted him – the rush of the wind as it blew past him, the sting of thousands of sand particles whipped up in the gale, the shouts of his companions as they fell into their desired flight formation. At this sound Phendrana cracked his eyes open a fraction, confident that he could see well enough by now, and turned in his saddle to glance over his shoulder; the last of the mounted historians had launched from the Lower District and cleared the protective cloud of enchanted shadow that clung to Thultanthar's borders, and now they were drifting into a tight-knit triangle shape with Brennus at the point.

The doppelganger cut his gaze to his left, squinting through his streaming eyes, to find that Brennus's advisor, the arcanist Altaria, was flying parallel to his darksteed at a respectful distance of about fifty feet on one of the larger veserabs housed within the Lower District's stables. Phendrana shuddered at the sight of the brutish creature but otherwise said nothing. The veserabs were shadow beasts that the Netherese had domesticated during their sojourn to the Plane of Shadow for the singular use of transport by flight, but their hulking bat's wings, rubbery skin, and eyeless face with its gaping maw of razor-sharp teeth made them a terrifying and hideous sight to behold – if nothing else, Phendrana was exceedingly grateful that he wasn't being borne to their destination by one of the foul beasts.

He loosened his grip on the reins with some difficulty and willed himself to look down – Phendrana hadn't a fear of heights to speak of, but they were now soaring several thousand feet above the ground and the simple notion of how high they were was a little daunting. The City of Shade was suspended above the great desert of Anauroch, which spanned some two thousand miles in diameter of harsh, unforgiving heat and sand and little else; from his impressive vantage point Phendrana had little trouble identifying the only mountain range that rose up from the vast expanse of desert, the Scimitar Spires, and only real water source in all of Anauroch, the Shadow Sea. It was the first time the mindmaster had set eyes upon the metallic black surface of the Shadow Sea, which was long said to be cursed by the presence of shades dwelling in their wicked city high above the dunes. Aside from these natural formations it was nothing but golden slopes of sun-caked grains for as far as the eye could see, but at the pace their party had set Phendrana suspected it wouldn't be long before they had left the Anauroch Desert far behind them.

He caught Altaria's watchful eye and cocked his head in Brennus's direction, and when she nodded her assent Phendrana leaned low against his dark equine's neck and spurned the great beast forward. It beat its powerful wings and whinnied with exertion, though the sound was all but lost to the doppelganger's ears in the sound of the wind rushing past, and together they closed the distance between themselves and Twelfth Prince Brennus. The loremaster was sitting intently in his mount's saddle, the protective veil of shadows thick about his body, his vibrant bronze eyes the only distinguishing feature that Phendrana could make out even in such close proximity. Rather than attempt to converse with him verbally the doppelganger reached his mental facilities out in search of Brennus's familiar train of thought, unsurprised when the prince accepted his intrusions readily. _I don't understand. It feels as though we are moving at a normal pace, but it seems that the landscape is passing us by at a velocity greater than our travel would allow._

Even a dismissive glance would have proved as much; the way that the air rushed by them suggested that they were traveling at a perfectly acceptable speed, but there was truth to Phendrana's observation. The sprawling mountain range of the Scimitar Spires passed below them far too quickly than was possible and everything they passed seemed slightly blurred; if he squinted against the stray sand particles that threatened to get in his eyes Phendrana could just make out the shadows their mounts were casting upon the ground, and even these moved far faster than one might expect. Brennus was quick to confirm this. _You are right – as a senior arcanist at the Shadow Mages College, Altaria has been experimenting with subtle time-alteration magic. Thus far in her training her efforts have been most successful – this is one of her greatest attempts. The effect of her spell leaves us feeling as though we are traveling at a speed our bodies find acceptable – any faster and we would hardly see where we were going – but what is in reality much faster than should be possible._

Phendrana had difficulty understanding this, if only because everything he had ever known contradicted such an occurrence, but Brennus spoke with such knowledge and authority that it compelled him to nod along. _And at the pace we have set, when can we be expected to arrive at our destination?_

Brennus's eyes flitted briefly upward, chartering the sun's position in the sky and considering where it might be when they located Castle Tethyr. At length he mused, _Late afternoon if we keep this pace - that is, if we are left to our own devices whilst we travel, and if the weather continues to favor us. _

They settled into a companionable silence as Brennus focused mostly on navigating their group in the desired direction, and after a little while Phendrana drifted back into place beside Altaria and contented himself with soaking in their surroundings. It wasn't that he hadn't done his fair share of traveling – quite the contrary he was no stranger to the road – but seeing everything from thousands of feet above the ground cast all the lands he had seen in a fresh new perspective. Presently they had soared over The Saiyaddar and the Sword and left the great desert of Anauroch behind them, and there the vast sands gave way to the marshes. They soared over the westernmost edge of the Farsea Marches, and not long after that the Marsh of Tun; from his impressive vantage point Phendrana could see the sparkling waters of the Dragonmere some hundred miles to the east as they crossed the Trader's Road that dissected the great Dragon Coast, its calm surface a dazzling sight in the light from the radiant sun overhead. From here they banked west and flew over the Greenfields, then briefly over the Snakewood, and into the province of Amn; though the lands here were primarily open plain they weren't without splendors of their own, namely the mountain range of Small Teeth stretching westward toward the Sea of Swords and the deep forests of the Wealdath where the tribes of Suldusk and Elmanesse elves protected some of the oldest and wisest trees north of the province of Tethyr. A brief break in the towering canopies of the Wealdath heralded a glimpse of what Phendrana was certain was the ruin of Myth Rhynn, but their mounts sped them along their way so quickly that he had no way to be sure. The sea of lush trees gave way to the east-to-west stretch of the Starspire Mountains shortly after, and they took wing through the channel that bisected the mountain range that the River Sulduskoon had eroded centuries previous, and on the other side they found the relic of Castle Tethyr some hundred miles north of the grand city of Memnon.

The arcanists were the first to land, followed shortly by the historians and archeologists upon securing the perimeter; Phendrana spurred his darksteed out of the circling group of Shadovar and guided his mount into a graceful landing, surveying their new surroundings for any sign of a threat before Brennus chose to land alongside him. When it seemed that all was well and that no harm would come to the Twelfth Prince their group completed their landing procedures, and Brennus wasted no time in hurrying inside with his retinue in tow; Phendrana brought up the rear, sticking close to the senior arcanist Altaria, but paused in the foyer of the once-great castle and turned back to gaze upon the ruined courtyard.

It was raining – not the pelting gale of the strong thunderstorms known to sweep across the plains this time of year but the slow, almost gentle rainfall the doppelganger would have expected to see in the mystical forests where such weather was customary. It seemed so long that he had seen a storm, or any other awesome display of nature, for that matter, that every drop that struck the cracked and crumbling flagstones at his feet sounded with the beauty of an orchestra. Phendrana stood beneath the weathered awning with his arms outstretched, gazing with awe at the phenomenon and relishing the feel of the cool water dripping upon his fingertips, and swore that in that moment he could clearly see the rain giving life back to the parched lands of Tethyr.

For the first time since he had impulsively declared himself an agent of Thultanthar and pledged himself to the service of High Prince Telamont, Phendrana regretted his choices and lamented the life he had left behind.

Then from the entrance hall he heard Twelfth Prince Brennus's voice as he began setting the excavation party to work, and remembered all he had been given in recompense.

* * *

Though there was much to be done, Phendrana found himself exempt from much of the work that was vital to the excavation. He wasn't an arcanist and so was not required to inspect the interior of the structure for any lingering protective enchantments or flaws in the foundation; he wasn't an archeologist, so he wasn't kept busy divining the most likely resting place of the Netherese armory they sought, and he certainly wasn't a historian so there was no need for him to delve into the numerous dusty tomes they had brought along that detailed the rise and fall of the doomed line of Alemander, the last family to rule the province of Tethyr before the seat of its power was relocated to Darromar. Brennus was perhaps far busier than any of them, for he was the authority on all matters related to the armory they sought and his ear was constantly being claimed by those who had accompanied him away from the enclave, but he did spare a moment for Phendrana when the doppelganger almost timidly approached him.

"I fear I may be doing more harm than good," the mindmaster confessed, watching the rest of the excavation party bustle around, keen about their duties. "It seems there is nothing I can offer you but the strength of my arm and the promise of my protection."

Brennus set a hand upon the small of the doppelganger's back, steering him gently but insistently away from where the arcanists had gathered in a closely-knit half-circle around the prince, and when he was assured they were out of earshot the loremaster pitched his voice low and murmured, "The strength of your arm and the promise of your protection is far more than those who are constantly vying for my attentions can offer me, I think." He paused to chuckle before squaring up to face the doppelganger, one hand lingering upon Phendrana's forearm and the other clutching the Nether Scroll that Phendrana's deceased friends had procured from their labors in the city of Manifest. "To be frank, I envy you. You are not charged with aiding in this expedition – I requested that you accompany me for different reasons, most of which are inherently selfish in nature."

Phendrana crooked an eyebrow. "Oh?"

"I am a selfish man at heart," Brennus reminded with a wink, and though Phendrana laughed readily enough he was reminded of the possessive nature the prince often exuded in their private lives together. "It's true that I requested your presence because I feel there is a great deal you can learn by being here, but beyond that I was keen to give you an opportunity to explore outside of the enclave to your heart's content. I know you must be feeling confined of late."

"I have felt no such thing," Phendrana admitted honestly, though he was touched by Brennus's courtesy; sensing there was yet another motive behind the prince's actions the doppelganger flashed a brief smile before finishing, "And?"

Brennus shrugged, though his eyes glinted conspiratorially and ruined his façade of nonchalance. "And I was most reluctant for us to part ways. I anticipate that we will be here for many days and the idea of being without you for any period of time was most unwelcome to me, so… Here you are."

Phendrana grinned widely and dropped one knee upon the flagstone at the prince's feet, and dipping his head he mumbled humbly, "You are more courteous than I ever imagined, Prince, and more attentive than I deserve. I am honored to be by your side, for I think that in your absence I would have been very lonely indeed."

The loremaster quickly ushered Phendrana back to his feet, waving away his words with a scoff. "We receive what we deserve, Phendrana – nothing more, nothing less." His expression clouded, became less amiable and more guilt-stricken. "Forgive me, but my time grows short. I sense that the arcanists are eager to consult with me… Is there something you require?"

"Only to see how I might best serve you," Phendrana hastened to reply. "As I have said, it seems there is little I can offer you."

"I am glad that you have asked." Brennus clapped a hand down upon the doppelganger's shoulder and steered him around until they had put their backs to the entrance hall and were facing the many mostly-lightless corridors that led into the bowels of the once-great castle, and he gestured toward these hallways with a haphazard sweep of the rolled-up scroll he held. "While we are divining where might be the best place for us to begin our search for the armory, I would like for you to begin delving deeper into the castle to see what you can find. The arcanists have already completed their primary search for lingering protective enchantments – they have detected a few anomalies, but nothing that should trouble you throughout your exploration. Apart from that, I urge you to be wary. Though the upper levels of the castle provide little protection from the elements in its state of disrepair, it has been abandoned for quite some time and may house any manner of wild beast you can imagine. You and your friends are among the most resourceful individuals I have ever known, and I doubt you will incur any danger upon your way, but keep your wits about you at all times. Report back to me if you find anything of note, do you understand?"

Phendrana bent at the waist, his radiant smile a testament to the sudden excitement welling within his chest. He had been given leave to explore at his leisure, and was to be left to his own devices! The doppelganger had never really viewed himself as a dungeon-delver, per se, but so long had he been dwelling within the boundaries of Thultanthar that just the prospect of exploring the unknown got his heart racing. Brennus must have sensed his elation, for a similar smile spread across his face when Phendrana answered, "It will be done, Prince. Should you need me for anything else while I am away…"

"I have ways of locating you," Brennus promised enigmatically, and with that he withdrew his hand from Phendrana's shoulder and strode back to where the arcanists were impatiently awaiting him.

Phendrana turned back to the vast, daunting hallways that led into the interior of Castle Tethyr, beaming into the dark, unknown recesses that perhaps no one had dared to tread in decades. He could scarcely believe his luck – that he, of all people, had been entrusted with the responsibility of delving into the remains of such an iconic relic! The prospects of all that he might stumble across constricted his throat with anticipation and the smallest thrill of terror, but his excitement was such that he quelled that latter sensation with little effort. He turned his thoughts inward then, calling out to the six other psyches that were never far from his own, pleased when they shared in his elation.

_You are fortunate to have found one within the City of Shade who so favors your cause,_ Vadania reminded pragmatically. _I fear if you had fallen in with any other your lot in life would be far different._

"As do I," Phendrana admitted aloud, the words barely audible beneath his breath. "Be that as it may, where to begin?"

_What do your instincts tell you?_ inquired Xanther, and Phendrana took that as a sign that he should be mindful, and so stretched his mental facilities out into the unfamiliar corridors that had just become his playground. What he sensed as the result of his musings was nothing less than exhilarating; there were no coherent thought patterns to speak of that he could sense from his current position, but he detected multiple whisperings of very old, very archaic magics whose natures were mostly foreign to him, as well as an overall sensation that this was a place for those far older and nobler than he. The prospect reawakened within him his most primal instincts of fear and reverence.

"That we would do well to tread carefully through these halls," Phendrana told them. "There are old and wise things contained within these walls – things that are unknown to me, but things we should not take lightly. Let us be mindful, and let us not cease to be respectful as we go about our business. I sense what awaits us is not something we should offend."

_Your words hold great wisdom, _Zerena agreed readily, and it seemed to Phendrana that the gloaming was already on edge. _Take great care, dearest Phendrana._

Phendrana nodded once to show that he understood her concern before moving slowly but purposefully forward, crossing toward the back of the audience hall with his eyes trained upon the southernmost corridor. Once there he paused with one foot in the hallway, most of his weight supported on his trailing leg as he placed one hand upon the stonework beside him and focused on heightening his senses. His inherent darkvision was very attuned now from his days spent within the City of Shade, so much so that now the Material Plane seemed too harshly bright for his eyes; the lightlessness of the hallway ahead of him was a welcome reprieve to his slightly-streaming eyes, and it took him only seconds to adjust to the near darkness. His fingers traced the crumbling, moss-covered stone beneath his hand and he inhaled deeply through his nose, rolling the scents of damp earth, lichen, and rainwater over in his mind; there was yet another scent buried deep beneath the others, something he was faintly familiar with but couldn't quite place, and as he considered it his ears picked up the not-so-distant sound of rain falling somewhere further down the hall.

He thought it best to err on the side of caution and address his six friends mentally. _The structural integrity of the palace is quite poor. I do hope the armory is well protected, whether by the castle's foundation or by the enchantments cast by Alemander's line – if not, I fear the Netherese artifacts we may find will be worth little in the end._

_The prince's studies led him to believe that the armory was located somewhere beneath the castle's foundation, perhaps in catacombs that the Netherese themselves constructed in an age long before Alemander's reign over this region,_ Ristel reminded, even as the doppelganger took his first measured step forward into the hall, effectively leaving the relative safety of the audience chamber behind him. _If that is true, it's likely that the armory is very well preserved._

_If it has not been located and plundered already,_ Phendrana reminded a little sullenly, his gaze focused upon the ground just ahead of his feet, for the earthen smell became stronger with every step he took and it sounded as though rain were falling through the roof all around him, though he was still dry. _I imagine the High Prince will be most displeased if we return empty-handed._

He turned left as soon as he was able, for the sound of rain spattering upon flagstone was drawing nearer and there was a dim gray light inviting him in out of the gloomy corridor. Two of the four walls of the simple square room were completely gone, as was the roof over the room; the two walls that remained bore deep, unnatural grooves in the stone that suggested what remained of the structure had endured heavy concussive blows but perhaps could withstand little more. Large sections of the stonework bore black stains – even considering the lengthy time that had passed since the fire that had eradicated the last of Alemander's line, Phendrana could still smell the smoke that was the eternal by product of the foul deeds that had been performed here. The rain pouring in through the ruined rooftop did little to weaken the odor.

_The elements will have destroyed anything in here that was once worth salvaging, _Kiora pointed out, and Phendrana silently agreed, backtracking through the door and picking his way with all possible care through the corridor. _Surely what the prince was saying is true, and the well-walked passages of the castle could not possibly house what we are searching for._

_We are not looking for the armory up here, _Phendrana corrected her patiently, blinking his protuberant eyes slowly as they readjusted to the lightlessness of the main hallway, his dominant hand resting reassuringly upon the hilt of his sheathed elven thinblade. _Rather, we are looking for a means to reach where the armory may be located. Prince Brennus has put a great deal of research into discerning the precise location… If he believes that there is a system of underground tunnels, or catacombs, or a mausoleum beneath the kingdom that delves into the Underdark, then surely his suspicions are justified. We need only to determine where best to start so that he and his team might do their jobs._

_Stop,_ Zerena hissed suddenly, her tone of voice much less like the lilt of a childlike fairy that they were used to and more of a warning, low pitched and ominous. _Listen._

Phendrana heeded the gloaming's words to the letter, pausing mid-stride and lowering himself into a defensible crouch even as he perked up his ears to discern even the softest of sounds. At first he heard only two things – the sound of heavy rainfall pattering against the roof of the crumbling structure as well as washing over the exposed rooms where the ceiling had long since caved in, and the very faint din of voices bickering from back the way he had come – but through sheer force of willpower he at last heightened his own senses enough to hear that which Zerena had meant him to hear. From a location the doppelganger had no means of immediately determining there issued an odd sucking sound; it was rather akin to the sound a person might make wading through mud as it dragged at their feet, or a snail oozing along through its own slime.

Ristel, arguably the quickest among them with his tongue, was the first to voice the thought they unanimously shared. _The rain is not the cause of that sound._

_Indeed,_ Phendrana agreed, and he addressed Zerena as he continued to marvel at the sound. _Something you recognize?_

Of the six fallen heroes that resided within the doppelganger's fragmented but brilliant mind, Zerena was most familiar with the Lands Below. Though Alax was half drow he had been raised by his human mother far away from the dark influence of the Spider Queen Lolth, so he knew little of the Underdark and the innately heinous practices of the other half of his parentage; likewise Phendrana, born of a race that was ideally suited for life below the surface of the earth, had been born and raised in Cormyr and knew almost nothing of the lightless corridors from which his relatives were bound. As a gloaming, though, Zerena had been raised in the Underdark and only chose to leave her homeland because her kind and gentle nature had driven her to seek a more peaceable way of life. Before she had gathered her courage and departed, however, she had had the misfortune of crossing paths with many foul creatures the likes of which Phendrana could only imagine, horrors he knew he would be hard pressed to stand against if the need ever arose.

_I know nothing of this,_ Zerena whispered tremulously, every syllable uncertain, a sense of dread that seemed somehow out of place creeping into her voice. _But let me remind you, Phendrana, that the Underdark is vast and many of its tunnels are more than likely still unexplored… And do not forget, there are even fouler places beyond the bowels of the earth, places where the wickedest creatures you can think of would not dare to tread._

_How comforting,_ Ristel drawled, his characteristic sarcasm dripping from each syllable, but even he could not mask the sudden uneasiness that they all felt.

_It could be guarding the armory. _Once a proud paladin, Kiora could never hope to resist the allure of a lurking evil. _It could lead us to what we seek._

Xanther, perhaps the most cowardly among them, saw little point in keeping his view on the matter hidden from them. _I am not altogether certain I want to seek it out, if it's all the same to the rest of you._

Phendrana straightened from his crouch, though his muscles were no more relaxed than before and his hand still hovered a millimeter or two from the pommel of his favored weapon; the disconcerting sound of something viscous oozing along seemed somehow to intensify, but he was no nearer to pinpointing its location than before and now the tiny hairs on the back of his neck were standing on end. Nevertheless, when he spoke it was with a voice full of conviction. _Regardless, we have our charge. It's probable that Kiora is right, and that whatever is causing that unpleasant sound has taken up residence in the armory. The question now is this: how do we reach it?_

_Where is it even coming from? _growled Vadania impatiently.

_I'd rather we ascertained what was causing it,_ Alax argued, seeming rattled, and it was this realization perhaps more than any other that gave Phendrana pause for it took a great deal of effort to frighten the normally resilient cerebrex. It was that discomfort that ultimately spurred the doppelganger to move, to take his first proactive step forward with half a mind to locate the source of the sound. More than one voice raised in protest but Phendrana coolly ignored them.

_We have our charge,_ he reminded, voice businesslike. _I will not disappoint Prince Brennus, and I will not give the High Prince cause to be displeased with me. I will investigate._

He spent the better part of the afternoon and well into the evening hours picking his way stealthily through the connecting corridors of the first floor of the weather-beaten castle, taking his time and being as thorough as good sense would allow, but by the time he perceived that Brennus desired his presence back in the entrance hall he was no closer to locating the armory, or the source of the eerie disturbance, than before.

* * *

"I'm telling you," Phendrana repeated stubbornly, resisting with difficulty the urge to stamp his foot, "I heard something."

He had returned to the entrance hall with all haste to find that little had changed since their group had arrived; the arcanists had traced every last enchantment that still lingered within the confines of the castle but hadn't been able to determine how old a handful of them were, or even the effects of a few. The historians had provided Brennus with every insignificant detail he could ever care to hear about the structure since the moment it had been built, but this was hardly of any use to the loremaster for he had researched the relic in full before their departure and none of their information was new to him. Only the archeologists had anything remotely helpful to show for their labors, but the news they provided was little more than baffling – they were able to determine through the use of seismic monitors that there were indeed a series of complex catacombs spanning beneath the ground floor of the castle, but they had yet to determine how to enter these subterranean chambers. No one was even really certain that the catacombs had been constructed around the same time as Castle Tethyr, or if they were more recent, or far older, so speculation was rampant as to whether the two structures were related at all.

Brennus and Phendrana had shared a light meal together, the former in a most foul humor at the lack of progress that had been made, and Phendrana had seriously considered withholding his findings for fear of making the prince's humor even worse until Brennus had asked for a full account of his wanderings. After that there was little the doppelganger could say to convince Brennus that his adventures didn't merit a retelling, and by the time he had concluded his report the prince's temperament had worsened just as he had predicted. What irked Phendrana the most, however, was not Brennus's ire at his personal lack of progress but the way he dismissed the doppelganger's concerns so negligently.

"Of course you heard something," the loremaster sighed impatiently, taking a generous swig of Netherese heartwine from his goblet, and for his part Phendrana wished he could knock the chalice from the prince's hand. This was Brennus's fourth since he had returned from perusing the tunnels to the northwest, and Phendrana suspected those were not the only glasses the prince had had. "This is a very old structure, Phendrana – it is crumbling apart around us as we speak. It is remarkable that it is still as intact as we have found it, truth be told. It's likely that a sinkhole has formed and is growing somewhere near the castle's foundation; doubtless it will continue to enlarge over the course of the next several decades and swallow the whole of this ruin one day, down to the very last slab of stone."

Phendrana was angry enough at the utter dismissal of his theories that this perfectly logical explanation only intensified his rage, and served to make him that much more stubborn in his own defense. "I have come across sinkholes in my travels – this was no such phenomenon. This was nothing natural, nothing that can be so easily explained away… No, this was a _creature_, and before this expedition has come to an end I will prove to you that what I say is true."

Brennus replaced his goblet and crossed his arms – Phendrana couldn't recall a time before this when he had seen the prince in such a foul temper. "Did you _see_ this creature of yours?"

"Of course I didn't," Phendrana snapped. "I have already confessed to as much."

"And did you _hear_ the cries of this supposed creature?"

It took every ounce of the mindmaster's considerable willpower to sublimate his swiftly-mounting anger. "_No_, I didn't." He meant that quip to be his only reply, but in the next moment his rage got the better of him and he added, "And you would know as much if you had listened to a single word I've said, but it seems the bottom of your bottle has something much more important to tell you."

Brennus looked up, his eyes flashing dangerously, and Phendrana felt his stomach shrivel when he realized that the prince's gaze was as perfectly sober as it always was. The loremaster leaned slowly forward and then slammed one hand down upon the table, making his empty goblet jump and the rest of the dinner utensils rattle beneath the sheer force of the blow, and growled, "I beg your pardon?"

_Well_, Ristel snickered in a very ill-advised fashion. _There's little point in trying to backpedal now, is there?_

It wasn't often that Phendrana took the water genasi's advice, for more often than not it was very poor advice indeed, but he was just furious enough to listen now; he leaned forward himself, his face hovering just inches from the loremaster's, and snarled, "So you are either hard of hearing or so intoxicated that you are having great difficulty distinguishing words… Which is it? I have followed your orders to the letter, I have given you my full report, I have entrusted to you my true and honest opinion in full confidence, and this is how you choose to address me? I know that you are my sovereign, and that I am bound to serve and protect you as I have already sworn I will do, but if this is how all the Princes of Shade treat their subordinates I marvel that your brothers and you have any subordinates at all."

Brennus sat back slowly, and Phendrana had no choice but to watch fearfully as a myriad of emotions flitted across the loremaster's face in response to his words. Privately Phendrana was torn between hoping that Brennus would admit the error of his behavior and resolve to move on and hoping that the prince would answer him with nothing less than inconsolable rage so that he might have an outlet for all the anger that was welling up within his own heart.

He had his choice barely a moment later when a kind of infuriated resolution came upon the youngest prince's face, and then Brennus lifted one arm and pointed toward the door of the magically-constructed temporary lodging he had erected for his use. "You are dismissed."

Phendrana took his feet and strode wrathfully for the door, pausing long enough to glance back over his shoulder and snap, "And I will take my leave of you gladly, with the promise that you will not see me again until I have scraped together enough evidence to return here and prove you wrong." Such was the intensity of his fury that the mindmaster did not even offer the prince the proper obeisance – he simply shoved his way through the door and took his leave, marching the length of the entrance hall and making with all haste for the corridor that he meant to investigate next.

Predictably one of the Shadovar from their entourage was posted at the mouth of the hallway – the hour was growing late, Phendrana supposed, and the first watch was already in place – and the young female arcanist held out a hand to stop him before offering him a polite little bow. "With all due respect, Lord Phendrana, Prince Brennus has ordered that the company remain here until dawn breaks. With so much of this ruin unexplored, it is too dangerous for anyone to leave the entrance hall at so late an hour."

He appreciated the arcanist's concern for his well being, but not enough to allow reason to return to the forefront of his mind. Phendrana fixed the female Shadovar with his most withering gaze and gritted out, "And are you going to stop me?"

The arcanist must have sensed the depths of Phendrana's anger, for she wisely stood out of his way after barely a moment's hesitation. "No, sir," she murmured in a pliant voice, her gaze cast respectfully upon the floor, and Phendrana shoved rudely past her and plunged into the now completely dark corridor.

He was halfway down the hall and making no effort at a stealthy passing before Zerena had plucked up the courage to address him. _Phendrana… I know you are angry, but I do not think this is wise._

"I am not presently interested in what is wise," the doppelganger growled, storming on ahead in the absence of all care, his eyes squinting through the gloom. "I am only interested in getting to the bottom of this strange phenomenon."

_As are we,_ the gloaming assured him, to the general agreement of the others that housed themselves within Phendrana's mind, _but do you not think you should exercise a little more caution? What is it about the prince's behavior that has caused you to act in such a manner? I know he was negligent and also disrespectful, but you seem to have taken offense to something that I cannot immediately determine._

"Do you really want to know?" Phendrana paused briefly and folded his arms, leaning his weight against the nearest wall. "Very well – I will enlighten you. Is it not a strange arrangement that the seven of us have entered into – that is to say, you and myself and the others whom I have lost over the years? Have I not undergone much scrutiny for the past many decades? Has my credibility – indeed, my very sanity – not been the topic of much debate for all whom I have met? Have I not been treated as an outcast, a leper on society, a man of less than sound mind?"

_You have, dear one,_ Zerena admitted timidly, and her sympathy may have been meant to assuage him but he only found it more infuriating.

"And is it unreasonable of me to wish that the man I love treat me with just a fraction of the kindness, respect and courtesy that I have shown him since I entered into his service?" Abruptly Phendrana's anger had played itself out and he bent at the waist, encircling himself with his arms, his chest wracking with sudden sobs. "Am I undeserving of even that much? Have I not proven that I am loyal, and trustworthy, and dependable?"

_You have proven as much to everyone who knows you,_ Zerena told him sweetly, her tone maternal, _many times over._

_You should go back and voice your concerns to the prince,_ Kiora insisted, but at the aasimar's suggestion Phendrana straightened and set to walking again, though it seemed that his pace was a little slower and much less wrathful than before. _Surely he would take these worries of yours deeply to heart?_

"At present I think he is quite incapable," Phendrana admitted begrudgingly, turning a corner sharply and maneuvering the blackened corridors with a quickening stride. "And I cannot help but feel he would not be concerned with these complaints of mine. Better that I procure for him tangible results, so that he might be more assured of his faith in me."

_Phendrana_, snapped Alax suddenly, his tone one of urgency. _Wait! Listen!_

The doppelganger had barely a moment to perceive that the eerie oozing sound was louder than ever before the ground beneath his feet gave way; he scrabbled at the jagged edges of the crumbling flagstones for a few seconds, cursing every time a piece of the worn stone flaked away beneath his desperate fingertips, and then he lost his hold on everything and plummeted down into the imperceptible darkness.

* * *

The fall into the musty darkness was brief, just long enough for Phendrana to understand that perhaps he was in very real danger, and then he had reached solid ground again. The slabs of jagged stone and other debris that preceded him had accumulated at the bottom, however, and the unfortunate doppelganger collapsed belly-first upon a particularly sharp chunk of granite. It may have punctured his skin but he wasn't immediately certain, for at first he could focus on nothing but the crippling pain the impact sent shooting through his midsection and torso. For several moments he couldn't move as agony wracked his body, and when the last of the debris had come tumbling down around him Phendrana simply allowed his extremities to go limp.

_Phendrana_! cried Zerena in a panic. _Are you alright?!_

More in tune with the doppelganger's body on account of the unusual skill set afforded to him by his craft, Alax tapped into the pain receptors that were glaringly active in Phendrana's mind and pieced together his own estimate of the damage Phendrana's body had taken in the fall. _Five cracked ribs, two on the left side and three on the right. There seems to be a puncture wound above your navel but it seems to have just missed your xyphoid process. Mild abdominal lacerations inflicted by gravel and various other debris… Moderate bleeding, but not internally. All vital organs seem to be unharmed._

Phendrana thought it best if he addressed them mentally until he had a better idea of just where he had landed. _I have no potions on me, and it isn't as though I could assume one of your forms and hope that that would improve the situation… Perhaps, Zerena, you could fly us back to the floor above and we could return to the entrance hall for medical attention._

_I thought of that too,_ she murmured gravely, _but I haven't been able to take control of your motor functions. It's likely that in your weakened state you haven't the strength to sustain a transformation. I'm afraid you may have to find another way to return to the entrance hall… I do not think we can help you._

Phendrana mustered a great effort and did his best to force his body to change shape, but it was precisely as Zerena had said; the more he focused on altering his physical form the more fatigued he became, until he was laboring to draw breath and his mind was a foggy jumble of half-formed, imperceptible thoughts. _I feared as much,_ he finally agreed, and he summoned up the strength then to lift his head a few inches off the ground and take a look around.

It seemed he had landed in a very narrow and roughly-hewn corridor that smelled strongly of old, long-undisturbed earth; the musty scent he had picked up during the fall had only intensified the further below the surface he got, suggesting that he had landed in a place that no one had set foot in for quite some time. It was fortunate at least that he was a creature suited well enough for life underground, for the cramped subterranean tunnels were completely lightless save for the meager shaft of natural light filtering in through the hole above him. Aside from the gradual settling of small debris still fluttering down from above all was eerily silent; the sound of the light drizzle of rain trickling through the cracks in Castle Tethyr's foundation was not present down here, another clue to suggest that the catacombs and the ruined castle had been constructed at different times.

Bracing one hand upon the uneven pile of rubble upon which he laid Phendrana shoved out feebly, in effect rolling his aching body over so that he was laying face-up. The velocity at which he had struck the ground had rendered his armor mostly useless against the cruelly sharp rocks that awaited him at the bottom, and they had indeed punctured his abdomen just as Alax had said; his torso was a mess of smeared blood and his chest ached every time he drew in a breath. With great focus he found that he could breathe more comfortably at a slightly quicker, much shallower pace, and after a few minutes of concentrating he was able to breathe thusly without much thought. He had no healing items on his person and little cloth adorned his new set of armor, so he had no way to make a dressing for his wound; it was fortunate indeed that he wasn't bleeding internally, and even more so that none of his vital organs had been injured in the fall, or he suspected he wouldn't make it very far.

_I have no choice but to press on in my current state,_ Phendrana concluded, and with a groan he eased himself into a sitting position. _I can't likely stay here, and I don't expect anyone to come looking for me anytime soon. _

Despite his pains it seemed the memory of his brief quarrel with Brennus was still at the forefront of his mind, prompting Zerena to say, _I am certain that reason will return to the prince soon, and he will send a detachment to seek you out when you do not return right away._

_Retribution is something that the Twelve Princes of Shade keep ever ready, _Phendrana reminded grudgingly, _and Brennus is no exception. As I disrespected him he will be expecting an apology from me. There is little hope that he will concern himself with my whereabouts, or my well being, until he has it._

_Phendrana… _the gloaming began sympathetically, but the doppelganger overrode her.

_Let us speak no more of this now, for it is taxing me._ Phendrana's breathing was a little more labored in the onset of his sudden distress, so Zerena wisely ceased her protests. _For now I must focus my efforts on escaping here. Untreated these wounds could become mortal ones… Especially if there is any truth to my fears, and something has been lurking beneath the castle all this time._

It was many long minutes before Phendrana had summoned the strength necessary to struggle back to his feet, but through sheer force of will coupled with the encouraging voices of his friends he somehow managed it. The pain in his torso was intense and it was all he could do just to keep his breathing shallow enough so as not to aggravate it further, but the bleeding had subsided a bit so he dared to hope that perhaps he would survive to reach the surface if he exercised some caution. The knowledge that his belt was still laden with his two favored weapons did little to comfort him, for he knew that in his weakened state he would be hard pressed to defend himself in combat, much less fend off anything he might expect to encounter in the catacombs beneath the castle. Fortunately there was only one way to go from his current location – behind him was only a dead end, and ahead of him the corridor stretched onward into imperceptible blackness. He made his way slowly, sticking close enough to the wall to keep his non-dominant hand against the surface at all times, for he knew he could easily lose his way in the near-complete darkness otherwise.

After a grueling three minute walk down the uneven corridor the wall gave way to empty space and Phendrana paused where he was and focused his eyesight, drawing as much light as he could and hoping against hope the way back to the surface would be easily discernible. To his dismay he found he had reached a four-way intersection, each new hallway nearly identical as the one he had just come from.

_This doesn't bode well_, he sighed privately, but after taking half a minute or so to regain his bearings he settled for turning left. If his sense of direction was to be trusted at all he was now headed toward the front of the castle, albeit from underground, and that meant that he was drawing nearer to the entrance hall where the excavation party had set up camp for the night.

Five minutes later he had no choice but to stop and lean against the earthen wall for support, for the further he walked the more labored his breathing became and he could feel the discomforting sensation of something warm and damp trickling with increasing frequency beneath his punctured armor. The pain in his chest was becoming increasingly more difficult to ignore, so much so that he felt compelled to ask, _Alax, are you certain I didn't puncture a lung in the fall?_

_I'm positive, _the cerebrex assured, _but it appears your movement is putting increased pressure on your lung. One of your broken ribs is pressing against the tissue… If you aren't careful, you may have a greater problem on your hands, Phendrana._

Whatever snide comment the doppelganger had been preparing to respond with was lost upon his tongue, for in the next moment an odd stench struck his nose and almost sent him reeling with its sickening familiarity. It was the same scent he had detected earlier that day, the faint presence of something that didn't mix well with the natural smells of damp earth and rain and lichen, and though he hadn't recognized it then there was no mistaking it now.

The stench of decay was so strong in the catacombs beneath Castle Tethyr that it took every ounce of Phendrana's considerable willpower not to retch then and there.

_What could be causing it?_ Kiora hissed, and Phendrana shook his head as though that singular motion might be enough to expel the awful stench from his nostrils.

_There's no way to be certain,_ he answered, straightening up just enough to avoid worsening the intensifying ache in his chest. _It's unlikely that these catacombs were created to entomb Alemander's line beneath the castle – there are too many inconsistencies that suggest these tunnels are older than the castle itself, so Alemander's ancestors were probably unaware of its existence in all the years they ruled from here. That being said, this is no mausoleum – even if it was, it's been sealed for so long that any bodies laid to rest here would have finished decomposing hundreds of years ago. _

_What are you saying?_ Vadania demanded impatiently. _That this is the work of some living creature?_

Phendrana considered briefly before saying, _Perhaps living is an inaccurate term to use here._

_You must escape with all haste,_ Alax cautioned him, and his voice was grave. _If there is some manner of undead haunting these tunnels, then your safety cannot be guaranteed by any means. Find some means to reach the surface as soon as you are able!_

Phendrana pushed off against the wall and set off again at a shuffle, using the putrid stench of decay to fuel his movements and doing his best to ignoring the slight darkening of his vision. Alax was right, the doppelganger knew, but he was beginning to suspect that his only means of returning to the surface level was through the hole he could never hope to reach.

* * *

All was quiet in the entrance hall of Castle Tethyr, save the muted sounds of footsteps as the first round of the watch retired and the second round took their places at the many spiraling tunnels that led away from the central chamber in which they had set up camp. Twelfth Prince Brennus was tired, so tired that his eyes ached as they stubbornly perused the weathered map of the castle's first floor blueprint, but anger had fueled the adrenaline that kept him awake and then quietly dissolved into confusion followed closely by an ever-growing sense of real anxiety. If the guard was changing, it meant that three hours had elapsed since Phendrana had stormed out of his tent and set off deep into the castle.

Brennus shoved the map away irritably and extinguished the single candle by whose light he had been studying the curving corridors detailed on the parchment, grateful when a little of the stress left his eyes and the blissful darkness settled in all around him. Just what was it that Phendrana was searching for, anyway? The doppelganger hadn't mentioned, had only been concerned with undermining his authority and insulting him and his brothers. A flicker of the rage he had known earlier washed over his insides at the memory, but it was sublimated just as quickly by the return of his concern with the mindmaster's well being. Was Phendrana really so stubborn, so determined to prove himself right in this instance, that he was prepared to keep away from camp until this overwhelming sense of dread drove Brennus to go searching for him? It didn't seem like the kind of act that would be found in Phendrana's mostly amiable character, but the ugly notion that perhaps he didn't know Phendrana as well as he had convinced himself he did made itself known, and filled Brennus's thoughts with doubt.

He worked to tune the rest of the world out as slowly he focused his mind to a point, concentrating hard on projecting his thoughts beyond the confines of his own body and out into the cerebral plane that Phendrana knew so well. It was the place where they could meet and converse without fear that their words would be overheard by any third parties, the place he was slowly becoming familiar with on account of his growing bond to Phendrana. It was the one place Brennus knew he could flee to and connect with Phendrana on some level every single time.

Except that this time, he couldn't feel Phendrana's presence there at all.

For the first time since Phendrana had left Brennus felt a flicker of real fear within him. What did that mean? Was it simply that the doppelganger was angry with him, and that he had no desire to strike up a conversation? Was his mind otherwise preoccupied with whatever pursuit he had taken upon himself? Or was Phendrana in real danger? For a split second he considered leaving the tent and going to look for the doppelganger, but he dismissed the notion the moment his own ire returned in full.

No. He wasn't about to succumb to this sudden juvenile streak and allow Phendrana to tarnish his reputation. He was first and foremost the Twelfth Prince of the City of Shade – though he cared for Phendrana very much and could not wholly dismiss his concern, he was far too proud to seek him out.

* * *

_I feel as though we are getting further and further from the surface,_ Phendrana confessed helplessly after another half hour of wandering aimlessly through the dank darkness, and he paused again while laboring for breath. His extremities were now weak and trembling, his vision dancing with stars, and often now he shuddered as cold shivers wracked his body. The ground underfoot seemed to be sloping gently but noticeably downward, the complete opposite direction the doppelganger desired to go. _These tunnels must have been built with a destination in mind… What could it be? Is there no way we can reach it?_

There was a horrible moment of complete silence as his six friends digested the true meaning of Phendrana's words, and then Zerena voiced the very thing they all feared. _Do you mean to say that you have been searching for the armory all this time?!_

_Of course, _Phendrana scoffed, lurching to one side and bracing his shoulder against the earthy wall in a desperate bid to keep from toppling to the ground. _I have been looking for the entrance, but I do not suspect I will find it. Better at least that I continue about the task I have been charged with, and locate the armory for my noble prince. You have all seen through my eyes that these corridors are far older than the construction of the castle, and we must all face the inevitable truth that the two structures are likely not connected to one another. And so unless my physical conditions suddenly improves – doubtful – or the emissaries of Prince Brennus come looking for me – even more doubtful – it is likely our stories will all end in this wretched place._

Abruptly those six passionate voices were shrieking their protests in his head but Phendrana did well enough to ignore them as he went along his way. Not for the first time since he had fallen into the catacombs he attempted to reach his thoughts out as he desperately sought Brennus's familiar and comforting mental presence, but his strength was fast on the wane now and he couldn't hope to bridge the gap between them despite his very best efforts. The pain in his chest had nothing to do with the impact from the fall for the next few moments as he bent double there, great tearing sobs ripping themselves from his body with a kind of startling violence. He wanted to hear Brennus's voice, if only for a moment. He wanted to apologize for his behavior and proclaim himself the prince's humble, obedient servant. He wanted the loremaster's kind, soft-spoken voice to be the very last sound he ever heard as he stood there, his knees trembling with the effort of keeping his ailing body upright, tears streaming down his sweat- and blood-streaked face, the fingers of his left hand scraping along the steely surface beside him –

The tears ceased to fall just as suddenly as they had begun, and almost unthinkingly Phendrana stroked his shaking fingertips across the surface beneath his palm yet again, contemplating the change in contour as best he could without physically looking at it. With the darkness rendering his sense of sight almost completely useless he found that his other senses had sharpened exponentially, and there was no mistaking the difference in the feel of the surface now – where before he had been bracing his weight against a wall that was hard-packed, slightly dampened earth, now the material was without a doubt some type of durable metal – steel, he assumed, or perhaps even adamantine. With a kind of renewed vitality he turned to face the wall, his dexterous fingers working furiously over the new surface, feeling along the grooves, searching –

_There!_ There was a ring the size of his two fists combined protruding from the wall at waist height – a knocker? – and he clamped his hands down upon the cool metal with increasing desperation and tugged with all that remained of his strength. It did not budge, not even when he redoubled his efforts and tried again. A crippling hopelessness crashed down upon him like a tidal wave and Phendrana collapsed against the door with a melancholic howl, for surely the lost Netherese armory was entombed on the other side and now he would die without even completing his charge.

His weight made the doors groan in protest; the great steel surface eased inward an inch, then two, and then the doors flung wide and deposited the doppelganger none too gently upon a smooth, unyielding floor made of black marble.

Somehow Phendrana willed his battered body off the floor after a moment's struggle, and then he could do nothing but bask in the glorious sight that awaited him.

Doubtless the untraceable enchantments that the arcanists had detected but were loathe to name had all been emanating from this chamber, for it was remarkably well preserved given the hundreds of years that had passed since the last time anyone had set foot within. The floor was pristine and free of dust and dirt, not a scratch adorning its polished surface; the walls were of similar make, glossy black and polished to a meticulous onyx sheen. The entire room was lit with everlasting arcane fire of a dark violet hue, casting its ominous yet reverent light upon the chamber's contents – and oh, what priceless treasures entombed therein! It was a king's arsenal of the finest weapons, armor, and magical effects that Phendrana had ever laid eyes upon. The weapons ranged in size from nine-foot-long polearms and lances, their tips honed to a deadly edge and shining the cool glint of well-sharpened mithril, to ceremonial daggers with blades an array of exotic shapes and hilts encrusted with the most rare jewels the world over. The armor was an eclectic collection of exceedingly difficult to find, masterfully crafted pieces; upon one mannequin was a full set of moon ivy, its sentient fibers aglow like animate amethysts in the light from the violet torch fire, and on another a set that may have been one of the earliest attempts by the Netherese to utilize glass as a protective substance. There was an entire wall of magical effects, staves imbued with powerful enchantments that Phendrana had never encountered in all of his travels and shelves laden with rods and wands, cabinets filled with amulets and rings, spellbooks written in what Phendrana could vaguely recognize as the ancient Netherese language; there were spellcasters robes practically radiating protective enchantments, shields of masterful craftsmanship emblazoned with standards of ages that had passed long before Phendrana had come into this world, dozens upon dozens of the finest swords anyone had ever feasted their eyes upon. It was a sight so awe inspiring that Phendrana was certain he would have fallen right to his knees had he stumbled upon it at the peak of his physical health – as it was he stood there and stared around, stunned into a kind of humble silence, struggling to keep from collapsing for fear he would never find the strength to get up again.

_By the Gods,_ he managed to murmur to his six amazed friends, but for the moment it was all anyone could say.

_First things first,_ said Ristel briskly, the first among them to recover his tongue and remind them of their dire straits. _See if you can find a healing potion, or perhaps even a wand that isn't outside of your limited knowledge of the arcane to wield. I'll grant you that this is an impressive find and it all but secures your place at the prince's side, but it will be of no good to anyone if you die in here before you've told anyone just what you've found._

_I agree._ Phendrana limped over to the nearest shelf lined with glass bottles of various shapes and sizes, perusing their contents with a weary but practiced eye. He knew through his longtime acquaintance with both Ristel and Alax what most healing unguents looked like and hoped that he could identify one or two through sight alone, but the knowledge that one wrong decision had the potential to seal his fate made him rather reluctant to choose. After a great deal of deliberation he settled upon a bottle with an attractive hourglass shape whose contents were a cool green and smelled pleasantly of wildflowers and powdered jade; the stopper was tougher than he anticipated, and as he wrestled with it he took a few steps backward into a puddle of something viscous and slick.

It occurred to him then that the stench of decay was so overpowering that the urge to be sick struck him with an insistency he was powerless to fight, and he bent double and vomited into the pool of liquefied rot he found himself standing in. It was impossible to rein in his nausea but thankfully his stomach had nothing left to expel, and so glancing up he cast his eyes vigilantly around the room for the source of the disgusting disturbance.

Lingering in the corner nearest to him, mostly unseen before now on account of the closely-grouped mannequins in their menagerie of spellcasters garb, was a hulking aberration that veritably reeked of decay. It was tall, taller even than the tallest of the High Prince's sons, and as broad as a mountain troll, but the flesh that adorned its powerful frame was rotted and peeling away in great strips of decomposing flesh. It was humanoid enough in appearance but one glance was enough to assure even a casual onlooker that this creature simply could not be alive; its face was little more than a skull with ribbons of decaying carcass clinging stubbornly to the off-white bone, its rotted teeth a macabre grin within its dreadful face and its eyes alive with vengeful crimson fires within sunken sockets. It boasted great disheveled wings that were leathery in appearance but hung in tatters from its skeletal wingtips, and with every step it took toward him it left behind little cesspools of steaming, stinking corruption.

It was a creature that Phendrana had heard little of in his travels but never set eyes upon, a creature he had prayed to the Gods he would never have the misfortune of stumbling upon. It was called an angel of decay, a cursed monstrosity whose sole purpose was to seek out decomposing flesh and assimilate that awful substance into its wretched being.

_Phendrana!_ shrieked one of the voices that resided within his mind, but he was now so terrified that he had no way of knowing which. _You must run! This creature is beyond you!_

The doppelganger didn't need telling twice. As the mannequins were the only thing standing between him and the aberration he now faced he lurched one step closer and shouldered the faceless dolls over, knocking them down and battering the undead creature with enough force that it had no choice but to stumble back several steps. That was all the distraction Phendrana needed to move and he made with all speed for the door, the healing potion forgotten behind him in his panic, his movements so erratic and unmediated that he felt the precise moment when the puncture wound in his chest tore open a little further and the tip of one of his broken ribs pierced his right lung. He cried out, startled by the breathiness of his own voice, and tripped over his own feet, his mind reeling, the pain in his body at last starting to get the better of him.

_No! Don't give up! You can still escape!_

_The door! The door was strong enough to keep it locked up, if you can just make it to the door you can seal it back in – _

The angel of decay maneuvered the mannequins and oozed its way forward, and opening its mutilated jaw wide it let loose a wail so hideous that it drove Phendrana to his knees; the stench of rot was so strong that Phendrana wished he didn't have to breathe at all, though he almost couldn't now and suspected he would lose that ability altogether soon. From his prone position he reached for his elven thinblade and drew it from its sheath in one too-slow, too-shaky movement, brandishing the weapon out before him in a last feeble line of defense; the abomination shrieked and raked at him with its rotting claws, and though his stroke was awkward and weak it sliced easily through the brittle bone and severed the creature's arm at the elbow. Its answering cry made his ears bleed, as though it were scraping his eardrums with its horrible talons, and in a fit of rage it swung its seemingly useless stump of an arm and dashed the sword from Phendrana's weakened grip.

The doppelganger scrabbled backward, groping at his belt for his enchanted kukri, and when the angel of decay swung its good arm Phendrana unthinkingly threw one of his own arms up in a desperate attempt to keep it at bay.

Its cold-as-death fingers clamped down around his forearm, and he was shocked and somehow relieved when he felt no pain; instead the flesh that came in contact with the abyssal angel's rotting claws simply melted away, and his dominant arm decayed down to the bone before his waking eyes.

Panic and disgust swelled to a crescendo within the doppelganger's chest, fueling his sudden surge of energy; he all but ripped the kukri from its scabbard and sank it deep into the aberration's stomach, but he was soon dismayed at the weapon's complete lack of effectiveness. The angel of decay removed its hand – though truth be told it simply drew back, for there was no arm left now for it to cling to – and tore the weapon from its abdomen with a low growl of vengeance. Frantic, running out of options, Phendrana tapped into the seldom-used wellspring of mental life energy that sustained him and let loose a mind stab that would have laid any living creature low and likely reduced its brain to ash.

Except the creature he now faced had no brain to speak of, or living tissue to comprise its body at all.

It fell upon Phendrana with its single hand outstretched, seizing him at the shoulder, and the rivulets of liquid rot oozing from its fingertips speedily reduced the rest of the mindmaster's left arm to a puddle of liquid corruption.

It was in that instant that Phendrana knew he was looking his own death in the eye, and he was glad for it; he would have given anything to escape the pain he now felt, pain so intense that he had long since forgotten his own name.

* * *

Brennus was laying in his bedroll, his eyes squeezed shut in a futile bid to enter slumber, when he felt it.

Though dawn would be breaking in little more than an hour and he was now so enraged at Phendrana's disobedience that he was almost prepared to punish him, the Twelfth Prince had never stopped perusing that cerebral plane the doppelganger so often visited in an attempt to at least assure himself that Phendrana was in no immediate danger. Occasionally Brennus would stretch his thoughts out, searching, silently pleading, hoping for even the barest hint of Phendrana's presence so that he might take solace in the fact that his lover was only angry, and not hurt. He was allowing his mind to wander in that place that was outside of his body but still directly attached to it when a potent spike of pure mental energy disturbed Brennus's concentration and he bolted upright where he lay, dread clutching his shadow orb like a vice.

In all the time Brennus had been acquainted with Phendrana, he had only felt such a surge of psychic energy radiate from the doppelganger's body in one instance before this. It had happened months ago, when he and his brother Clariburnus had journeyed out of Shade Enclave and into the great desert of Anauroch in their search for a Nether Scroll near the Mines of Tethyamar. During that excavation a horde of phaerimm had happened upon them at unawares and Phendrana, then not an ally of Thultanthar but an observer of their goings-on, had found himself cornered by the shades' most hated enemies. Cut off from his friends and exhausted from his efforts Phendrana had chosen to tap into the mental energies that sustained his own life, letting loose a telekinetic wave of power that had laid dozens of phaerimm low with but a single thought.

That time was just like this time, the moment in which Brennus felt the last desperate throes of a man on the verge of surrendering his life.

Brennus did not even take his feet – he simply melted into the thick shadows surrounding him and found himself within the comforting and familiar blackness that was the Plane of Shadow. He allowed himself no time to feel at home, though, for the moment he had regained his bearings he set off at a sprint in the direction he deduced the surge of mental energy had most likely originated. And as he ran he knew from the sinking feeling in his chest and the icy cold terror that gripped his shadow orb that he would be too late no matter how fast he moved, for he had denied Phendrana his aid when the doppelganger most needed it and fortune was never kind to the Princes of Shade. He ran as though all the demons of the Abyss were hungering for his flesh, ignoring the burning in his legs as he pushed his body to its limit and furiously blinking back the hot stinging tears that pricked the backs of his eyelids.

He knew he was near when he heard the mindmaster's familiar train of thought, but the words were so distant and feeble that Brennus was shocked Phendrana still had it in him to think at all.

_No… Please… Stop… I don't want to live… anymore…_

A tear appeared in the fabric of the Shadow Weave just ahead of him and Brennus lunged for it, and in the blink of an eye he found himself back in the Material Plane.

He appeared in the lost Netherese armory just in time to intercept the killing stroke from the angel of decay, who by this time had reduced the brilliant doppelganger known as Phendrana to a decaying mass of flesh.

The abyssal angel's talons raked the Twelfth Prince's torso, tearing great lacerations in Brennus's fine robes and scraping the ebony skin underneath, and though the irritation brought a growl to the loremaster's lips it was little more than that – an annoyance, a trifle, a minor discomfort that was all too easy to overcome. For Twelfth Prince Brennus Tanthul, like all shades, had no living flesh that the angel of decay could reduce to liquefied corruption – he was a creature of the shadow, a man whose flesh and blood were fueled by the deepest and most complex form of darkness, and so the stroke did little to slow the prince down. Brennus growled the trigger phrase of a spell and lurched forward, striking his adversary with his right hand whose fingers had elongated and mutated into claws of darkness, and the prince's cursed talons razed great strips of corruption off the aberration's face. He struck again, unrepentant, a man of fury and retribution, tearing the monster's face to useless shreds, stripping the stolen scraps of flesh from its brittle shell of a body in a completely unadulterated display of thoughtless slaughter. And when the angel of decay was little more than a pool of reeking rot at the prince's feet Brennus seized the nearest magical artifact, a great staff that conjured molten flame at the caster's barest whim, and set fire to its hideous remains.

"Stop," gasped a feeble voice from the ground behind him. "Please… Stop…"

Brennus whirled, his eyes wild with his bloodlust, and felt the last shred of his sanity dissolve into utter madness. For there at his feet was what remained of the man that he loved, the doppelganger's left arm and leg almost completely rotted away, the corruption spreading across his torso and creeping up his neck, leaving his face almost completely unrecognizable. The Twelfth Prince cast the staff away from him, hardly concerned when it clacked to the floor none-too-gently behind him, and flung himself to the ground at Phendrana's side.

"Help!" he bellowed, his voice cracking in his terror, his chest heaving in desperation. "Someone help me!" But no one would come to their aid, he knew, for even if his retainers could hear him now they wouldn't have the first clue where to locate their sovereign. One of Brennus's hands darted out, keen on sopping up the festering rot as best he could, but Phendrana feebly slapped the prince's roving hand away.

"Don't," the doppelganger sighed, even as the corruption seeped into his left eye and rendered him partially blind. "Leave me… You will only hurt yourself."

"No," snapped Brennus, batting Phendrana's single remaining arm away, and with a simple whispered command he managed to stop the decay from spreading any further. "I have bought you a little time… I must now find a healing potion. Stay with me, Phendrana, stay – "

"I am truly sorry, Prince," Phendrana breathed in a barely-audible croak, "but I must tell you that your efforts at this point are futile."

"No!" the prince roared all the louder, and turning away he frantically perused the shelf of concoctions for one suitable to his needs. "There are ways to cure the touch of decay, I have only to – "

"You can look for a potion," Phendrana wheezed, "but it will do you no good. I am broken, Prince. My body is decaying, and soon I will be unable to draw breath. Now are you going to hold me in my last moments of life, or am I doomed to die alone after all?"

So Brennus turned away from his final endeavor to ease the doppelganger's suffering and dropped down to his knees at Phendrana's side, and gathering what remained of the valiant mindmaster's ruined body into his arms he pressed his lips to Phendrana's disfigured face. The doppelganger's body wracked with silent sobs of loss and tears of agony streamed from his eyes, bitterness and sorrow and regret all rolled into one, for he knew that his time with Brennus was growing ever short and he knew also that no amount of time would be sufficient enough to tell the prince just how deeply he cared for him. And Brennus wept openly for the first time since he had been made a shade, somehow shocked that he still retained enough humanity to do so, while his lips pressed against every millimeter of flesh they could reach.

The doppelganger's voice was so soft against Brennus's chest that the loremaster wasn't certain he had really spoken. "I'm afraid."

"Then let me help you," Brennus begged, feeling Phendrana's body waste away in his arms and powerless to stop it. "Let me try…"

"I'm not afraid to die," Phendrana corrected, a damp chuckle upon his ruined lips. "I'm afraid of being without you. I've only just found you. How can it be that now I must leave you? How will I ever find solace beyond this life, knowing that I have left you in such a state of intolerable grief? How will I ever forgive myself for the incurable pains I must now inflict upon you?"

Brennus hadn't the answer, for with Phendrana's time drawing short there was only one thing left he could think to say. "I love you, Phendrana. I love you and I am begging you – by all the goodness and kindness you have shown me, and by the love I know you bear me in return, do not give up. Please…"

He pressed his trembling lips to the doppelganger's rotting ones, unaffected by the gruesome visage that had so mutated Phendrana's once beautiful skin, and a flicker of something foreign crossed the mindmaster's features – was it curiosity? "The corruption… has no effect… on you?"

"No, love," sobbed Brennus brokenly. "No. I am immune to such a disease, for I am not a man of flesh but of shadow."

"That… at least… is something…" Then Phendrana's voice failed him, and he fell limp in Brennus's arms.

Brennus jolted as though the doppelganger had physically struck him and lowered Phendrana's mutilated body to the floor, though he did not do so now out of revulsion; the light of desperate hope had returned to his eyes as the last of the tear tracks dried upon his cheeks, his mind racing down an avenue that he had never before considered but dared to cling to now in this darkest hour of their lives. He gave his decision little consideration – for what was left to question now, with Phendrana's life mere seconds from ending? – and instead hastily rolled up his sleeves to free up his hands, his thoughts racing back a few hundred years to a singular event in his life that he now clung to more dearly than any other he had yet lived.

A few hundred years ago, Brennus had had the supreme honor and pleasure of becoming the only shade ever to witness the sacred ceremony in which High Prince Telamont, the wisest and strongest of their kind, tore a person's living soul from their body and replaced it with the purest essence of shadow. The shadows that bound each shade became that shade's very life force, the energy that sustained him when he was feeling weak, the conduit for the shade's impressive abilities and awe-inspiring strength. The subject of the High Prince's ritual was no one important enough for Brennus to remember, but what he did recall were the particulars of the ceremony that had been completed; he remembered that the shadow orb was not something the High Prince willed into existence, or even constructed out of just any dark matter that Shar provided. The shadow orb of each shade began with a wisp of the High Prince's own essence, just a few particles of shadow plucked from the Most High's own life organ.

Brennus wasted no time, for there was no time left for him to think now; he simply growled the trigger phrase to invoke a spell, rendering his own hand mostly incorporeal, and plunged his own extremity through his chest and into the very core of his body.

It was agony unlike anything Brennus had ever experienced, save for the moment hundreds of years ago when his own father had introduced that first wisp of shadow into his body and burned away all that remained of his beating heart and his too-pure soul, but somehow he managed to locate his own shadow orb deep within his chest without succumbing to the pain. He held the black organ in his hand, marveling at the swift pulsating tattoo, sobered by the thought that he was holding his own life in his fingertips, and before he could become too unnerved to continue he pinched off a few strands of undiluted shadow and separated them from the whole.

It was as though someone had set fire to his entire body; Brennus gritted his teeth, his ceremonial fangs puncturing his lower lip, and tore his hand free from his own chest just as the limb regained its original consistency. For a moment he was captivated by what he held in his hand – little more than a few motes of blackened shadowstuff, so simple and more miniscule in size than his littlest fingernail yet with the power to unmake or deliver any creature he chose. He allowed his gaze to flit down to Phendrana's, now so incoherent that his eyelids were fluttering spasmodically as the life flew from him, and he thought he recognized the moment when dimly Phendrana perceived just what Brennus had planned.

Then Brennus murmured the same spell incantation yet again and plunged his hand into the doppelganger's chest, numb to the renewed cries of agony that his movements spurred to Phendrana's lips; Phendrana thrashed weakly beneath him, begging for Brennus to end his life, shaking decayed scraps of his own flesh free in his throes, but Brennus somehow retained his concentration long enough to locate the doppelganger's fibrillating heart. There followed an awful moment during which the prince steeled himself for the forbidden rite he was about to breach, and then he touched the wisps of purest shadow to the doppelganger's heart and witnessed the moment when that organ shriveled and died, thus expelling Phendrana's soul from his body.

Silence followed, so profound and lengthy that Brennus feared he had been too hesitant in his actions.

And then it happened.

As he withdrew his hand from Phendrana's decaying chest the corruption that had been passed onto him from the abyssal angel solidified, first mutating from liquid into something rather akin to a sponge and then becoming as hard as stone; Brennus cried out and struck at it with his fists, doing his best to remove it from the doppelganger's skin, but ceased immediately when it became clear that the rocklike contour was smoothing itself out. As Brennus watched, morbidly fascinated, the ruined skin directly over Phendrana's heart knitted itself together as perfect and pristine as before. The scar tissue that had formed as a result of the decay simply vanished, leaving in its wake new and healthy skin the color of exotic ebony; the eye socket that was all that remained of Phendrana's left eye miraculously healed, leaving his face unmarred and intact. Brennus gaped to see the doppelganger's left arm and leg restored as though they had never been melted away to begin with; he watched the doppelganger's broken ribs reconstruct themselves, saw the puncture wound in the doppelganger's abdomen fill in and disappear, heard the sharp intake of breath as the doppelganger's healed lung took in its first real gasp of oxygen in many hours. For a precious handful of seconds Brennus was afforded a glimpse of the man Phendrana had been before that hellish monster had ruined him and he drank in the doppelganger's beauty –

And then Phendrana was screaming.

The small patch of perfect black skin suddenly began to grow, spreading across the doppelganger's chest as though someone was dripping ink upon his upper torso. With every inch of skin the shadow consumed Phendrana's cries intensified, reverberating off the walls of the ancient Netherese armory; the doppelganger's charcoal gray skin gave way to the fine sheen of ebony that Brennus himself, and all of his older brothers, had entertained for countless decades through the High Prince's bounty. The muscles beneath the newly-colored skin rippled with hidden strength and the black skin swallowed up all that remained to suggest that Phendrana had once been a doppelganger.

His skin crackled like a wildfire was shooting along his flesh, consuming all that it touched, and in the throes of his agony Phendrana even hallucinated that he could smell the stench of charred flesh. Everything that had made him a man was suddenly stripped away but he didn't feel weaker – he felt mightier perhaps than he ever had in his life, but in that moment he would have traded it all for the sweet release of death because he was _burning, _his body was engulfed in flames, couldn't Brennus see it,_ why wouldn't he stop it -_

Then a wisp of shadow burst into existence just above Phendrana's heart – or, rather, where his heart had been until only recently; it clung protectively close to his body as though it would shield him from the harshness of the world and its cruel elements, and then slowly the wisp became larger and larger. Brennus watched, mesmerized, as that tiny particle of deep darkness grew and became an entire protective cloak of shadows, the greatest defense he had ever claimed against the brutal judgment of humankind and the ruthless rays of harsh sunlight.

And when the cloak of protective shadows covered every inch of the doppelganger's skin Phendrana opened his eyes wide – eyes of bedazzling silver, twin captivating pools of the intensity of moonlight. They were the eyes of a man reborn, the eyes that would see a millennia's worth of the world changing and more without ever dulling, the eyes that no longer had the capacity to understand the trifles that their mortal body had just suffered and overcome.

The eyes of a shade.


End file.
